


Monster's Kiss

by decadentbynature



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, F/F, F/M, Female on Male Rape, Femdom, Forced Oral Sex, Forced Orgasm, Gang Rape, Mind Break, Pegging, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reverse Rape, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 21:45:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14941940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decadentbynature/pseuds/decadentbynature
Summary: The Horde, comprised entirely of female monsters, is closing in on Middale, the last refugee of men and elves. Elven Prince Iefyr  Alluin is left with no choice but to send his close friend, the Virgin Knight, Mathias Honorgrove, on a potential suicide mission to face the Horde head-on in one last desperate attempt to keep Middale safe. Unbeknownst to them both, Mazoga, the Chieftess, leader of the Horde, knows the Virgin Knight is coming, and is excitedly awaiting his arrival. To the Horde, men and elves are not bodies to be slaughtered but sows to be used for breeding. Mazoga has her mind set on conquering not only Middale and turning the last survivors of the free people into her personal breeding stock, but also on breaking Mathias, and the turning two beautiful elves who rule Middale, Prince Iefyr and his wife, Umrielyth, into her personal sex slaves





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> heya  
> this is a commission - all of the original characters, scenario and idea belong to the commissioner  
> a scenario where two lucky lads get their brains fucked out by an endless stream of monster ladies was requested  
> commissions are still open  
> check out my tumblr, decadentbynature, for more details or hit me up here for my commissions email

The news coming out of Treley wasn’t just bad; it was terrifyingly abysmal.

Hands pressed flat against the cold surface of the war table, multiple loose chunks of hair hanging limply around his face, Elven Prince Iefyr Alluin surveyed the army of reports, maps and notes spread out across the tabletop. Underneath it all was a marked map, showing every location they’d lost, everything location that was now just a burnt husk of what it used to be. As his eyes wandered over the bright red X’s, standing out in stark contrast to the yellowed, faded hue of the map, his heart clenched painfully. Swallowing down the bile rising in his throat, he forced himself not to dwell on it. The Horde…was drawing ever closer. Every wave of soldiers they sent crashing down onto those beasts was near instantaneously shattered. Remnants, survivors – both soldiers and civilians alike – were swallowed up by the Horde, dragged into the conquered lands where Gods only knows what happened to them. To dwell on that was near enough to drive him insane with guilt so he shoved it away, deep into the inner recesses of his mind. 

Pulling in a ragged breath, brushing the stray hairs away from his face, he gave his head a mighty shake to clear up the depressing cobwebs. That…that was something he could not dwell on, not when there was still hope, not when there were townsfolk of all races counting on him. Not just elves, not just his fair people, but humans as well. Right now, when the day looked darkest, he couldn’t afford to falter. There was still something that could be done, still something they could do to turn away this swell of darkness and evil. He just needed to find some kind of solution. Picking up a nearby flask, he downed the weak, sour wine in it, grimaced at the pour taste then set it aside. Somehow, the bitter note on his tongue filled him with energy. That’s right, he was alive, his heart still beat and as long as it beat, he would fight! With renewed vigor, he poured over the scrolls, notes, reports and maps, looking for something, anything. 

A loud knock startled him out of his intense musings. Both annoyed at being interrupted and nervous that it might be more bad news, Iefyr braced himself for the worse as he called out, “You may enter!” 

The door to his right swung open, revealing an armed to the teeth guard and welcomingly familiar face. Smiling widely, his spirit soaring at the sight of the young fellow that came striding confidently into the room, Iefyr threw his arms open wide, sweeping forward as elegantly and majestically as he could manage in his excitement and embraced the young fellow. Ruffling his hair affectionately, the grin on his face widening at the subtle blush rising up into his pale, sharp cheeks, Iefyr declared, “Mathias Honorgrove, as I live and breathe! It is good to see you, my friend.” 

“Good to see you, too.” Mathias replied meekly, awkwardly patting Iefyr’s back, looking very much as though he’d like to wiggle out of his embrace. 

Unable to resist, Iefyr gave him another friendly squeeze before finally having mercy. Releasing him, he stepped back, clapped his hands onto the young fellow’s broad shoulders and took a moment to drink him in. Mathias Honorgrove, barely old enough to be considered a man yet he was one of the finest and most vital, valuable fighters in the entire resistance against the Horde. Though he looked like nothing more than a farm boy, this incredible fighter managed to take down two squadrons on his own and led a small battalion to victory many times over. Truly, if they were to lose him, the entire fight against the Horde would be lost as well. 

“How goes it on the front lines?” Iefyr asked, giving one of Mathias’s meaty shoulders a soft slap. 

“As well as you’d expect.” Mathias sighed, strolling over to the war table. Frowning deeply, a look not suitable for his young, handsome face, he brushed a lock of fair white hair out of his intense blue eyes as he quietly surveyed the spread on the tabletop. Reaching forward, he rested calloused fingertips on one of the many X’s, pain and rage burning like ice in his eyes, “But we will continue to fight nonetheless.” 

“We will.” Iefyr agreed fiercely, joining the young warrior at the table. Straightening his shoulders, his chest swelling with pride and conviction, he grabbed hold of the most relevant reports, pushing them towards Mathias until there was a mighty mountain of papers sitting in front of him. It was when Mathias delicately picked up one scroll, face scrunched up into a tight grimace, that he remembered the boy couldn’t read. He looked like a simple farm boy because that was what he had been before the Horde attacked. Internally chastising himself for forgetting such a fact, knowing that Mathias had to be embarrassed by this oversight, he quickly went over the most prevalent and necessary information, which essentially boiled down to: this is where they thought the Horde was going next. 

“Bellburn?” Mathias asked, touching the location of the small town on the map, “Why head there?” 

“There’s a mountain pass that would allow them to go around the Rotted Wood.” Said a soft, tired voice from behind them. 

They both turned. Standing behind them, clad in an old, worn dress that was made beautiful by being worn on her body, her long silver hair tied back into a loose bun, exhausted pale eyes gazing out at the world with a stoic intelligence, was his wife, Lady Umrielyth Alluin. Resting against her hip was a basket full of freshly plucked herbs, a pile of clean rags and a bottle of what was most likely some kind of potion. The apron tied around her waist was stained with fresh and old blood, contrasting heinously with the purity of her person. Smiling warmly, his heart leaping with joy at the sight of her, his beautiful beloved, he held his arms out, sighing contentedly when she easily, happily slipped into them. Warm, soft lips placed a loving kiss on his cheek and his heart soared with a joyfulness that was indescribable. 

“More refugees have found this safe haven.” She informed him, hitching the basket up further onto her hip. Rubbing her temple with two thin, long fingers, she sighed, “We’re running out of room for them.” 

“Worry not, my love.” Iefyr reassured her, “We will find room. And soon, the Horde will be defeated. Everyone will be able to return to their homeland, to rebuild and recover from this insidious force.” 

“I certainly hope so, my dear.” Umrielyth answered as she offered a tired smile. Turning to look up at Mathias, she said, “It is so good to see you. I’ve been worried sick ever since Riven fell. I am glad to see you safe.” 

Blushing a little, Sampsom meekly ducked his head, shuffling his feet just as a little boy would. Nervously playing with the hem of his shirt, he mumbled, “Thank you, my lady. It is good to see you too.” 

“Still as shy and bashful around women as ever.” Umrielyth chuckled, causing Mathias to blush even further. The tips of his ears were practically as red as cherries. Gently patting his shoulder as she swept pass, she pushed up onto the balls of her feet, placed a chaste kiss into Mathias’s red cheek and playfully said, “You’ll never stop being known as the Virgin Knight if you don’t work on that.” 

Practically sputtering, Mathias clapped a large, scarred hand onto the kissed cheek, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. Red stretched all the way from his shirt’s collar to the roots of his near white hair. Laughing heartily, a sound that made Iefyr feel as though he could take on ten thousand Orcs all on his own, she shot one final sweet grin his way, looking quite pleased with herself at having caused Mathias to turn such an intense shade of burgundy then floated out of the room, presumably to return to her duties. Chuckling himself, he crossed his arms over his chest, glanced over at Mathias, who was staring a hole into the floor, and sympathetically patted him on the shoulder. 

“She’s right, you know.” He teased the young fellow, then laughed loudly when Mathias settled a glowering pout on him. Without a doubt, that expression was meant to be intimidating so Iefyr refrained from informing him that he looked like a young child who’d just been told they couldn’t join the Hunt. 

The smile faded from his face as he turned back to the war table. She was right – there wasn’t much room left. The city was already being pushed to its limit with survivors of the Horde’s blight. If more kept coming with still no end in sight for this one sided war, they were going to have a bigger problem on their hands than just the monstrous force bearing down upon them. Food, water, clothing, medicine, everything would soon be in a devastating shortage. What would they do then? Start turning people away? Leave those with no to little chance left to die? Cast out those who could offer nothing to society? If the Horde was not destroyed soon, those were questions he would have to ask himself in all seriousness. Even more refugees; where had the most recent ones come from? What stories of nightmarish horror would they have to tell? He would need to tell the priestesses to put a damper on the tales they brought in with them. Last thing they needed was a panic spreading. If the townsfolk believed there was no chance left, it would lead to pandemonium. Authority would be questioned, everything would fall into chaos, even more innocent blood would be shed and there was no doubt in his mind that the last of the good people of Rybel would be completely wiped from the face of the earth. 

“I will take a battalion and meet them head on at Bellburn.” Mathias suddenly said, his voice ringing out clear and strong. 

Wrenched out of his depressive musings by the abrupt declaration, Iefyr gawked at him for a moment, mouth hanging openly slightly then snapped it shut with an audible click. Truth be told, he always referred to the man as ‘young fellow’ in his mind but mentally speaking, they weren’t that far apart. His 100 years was close or, at least, somewhere around Mathias’s 19 years. Yet, sometimes, he could not fathom how his mind worked. Without so much as a hint of hesitation, he was throwing around such a huge proclamation. Sometimes, he was forced to seriously wonder if this young fellow had any sense of self-preservation or fear. After all, what would be waiting for him at Bellburn wouldn’t be a few squadrons but the might of the Horde army. To take a single battalion up into the base of the mountains, with the intention to stem the flow of the beasts was madness. 

“We are not left with many other options.” Mathias continued, obviously catching onto Iefyr’s disbelief, “It is either face them in Bellburn, where we, at least, have the advantage of even ground or take them on where the mountain pass ends.” 

“Where does it end?” Iefyr asked, leaning over to survey the map. 

“Here.” Mathias pointed after a prolonged moment’s pause. 

When Iefyr saw where he was pointing, his heart dropped down into his stone like an ice coated stone. If the Horde was able to take the mountain pass, it would put those beasts a day’s march away from them. Within hours, Middale would be completely overrun. There was only a small squadron remaining in the city – nowhere near enough to take on the full might of the Horde. It would be a bloodbath. Every single street would be stained red as those beasts ripped through the city, taking down any who dare stood in their path. Right now, the Horde stood at the beginning of the mountain pass. Defeat, destruction was far closer than he ever could have imagined. 

“How long would it take them to travel along the mountain pass?” He asked quietly, unable to rip his eyes away from the point on the map. 

“A week. Maybe less.” Mathias replied somberly, “If it were a human army, we might have close to two but given the speed at which these monsters travel, I’m hesitant to even say a week.” 

Letting out a long, shuddering breath, his head falling forward, Iefyr said, “Not near enough time to build up our defenses.” 

“No.” Mathias agreed, “Which leaves us only with one choice. I will take as many able bodied men as I am able. We will hurry to Bellburn and stop the Horde in their tracks.” 

“It’s a suicide mission, friend.” Iefyr slowly shook his head, despair threatening to overrun him. 

“It’s the only choice we have.” Mathias reminded him. Placing his battle worn hands on the table, he leaned forward until his and Iefyr’s eyes met. Staring up at him with an unflinching, hard, determined gaze, his blue eyes burning with a ferocity that took Iefyr’s breath away, the Elven Prince briefly wondered why it was that this young fellow had been born into a life of simple farm boy. Looking into his face, staring into those intense eyes, he felt as though Mathias was fair better suited to be a Prince himself, rather than a farmer. 

“I will not send you to your death, my friend.” Iefyr breathed. 

A confident smile tugged at the corners of Mathias’s mouth. Righting himself, he rolled his broad shoulders, placed a hand on the hilt of his sword and strongly declared, “It is not to my death but to the deaths of all those beasts who dare threaten my home.” Reaching forward, he seized hold of one of Iefyr’s hands, squeezing tightly as he stared deeply into his eyes, “I swear to you, my friend. It is not to my death. Please, there is no other option left to us. We fight now or we meet our end in less than a week’s time.” 

War is cruel. War is terrible. To put him in such a position where he had to send someone so dear to him to what could be guaranteed death because he knew…he knew that Mathias was right, it was beyond cruel. There was no other choice, no other option. If the Horde was allowed to take the mountain pass, it would mean the end for all of Middale. Letting his eyes fall closed, grief and rage burning like a bitter bile deep in his chest, Iefyr sucked in a deep breath, firmly told himself that this was for the innocent people affected by the Horde’s blight and that he could never allow his affections for Mathias get in the way of their only option for victory, and nodded stiffly, “If that is what needs to be done, than so be it.” 

“Keep strong, my friend.” Mathias reassured him, clapping a large hand onto his shoulder, “When I return, it shall be with the head of the Horde’s Chieftess.” 

If only he could believe that as strongly as Mathias obviously did. Regardless, he swallowed down the bile rising in his throat, pushed away the strengthening despair building in the back of his mind, and opened his eyes to settle what he hoped was an unwavering gaze onto Mathias. Now was the time to remain strong in the face of almost certain doom. Nodding once more, he sucked in another deep breath then said, “Gather all the men you can. I will find who we are able to spare. We will have supplies ready by tomorrow’s dawn. Be ready to set out by then.” 

“Not quick enough.” Mathias disagreed with a shake of his head, “We need to set out tonight.” 

“Alright, I will see what I can do. In the meantime, start gathering together all the men and weapons you can find.” 

Already rearing to go, Mathias nodded, flashed a wide, confident grin that far suited his young, handsome face than a pensive frown then was out the door before Iefyr could get another word out. Watching after the young fellow until he completely disappeared, the Elven Prince with the weight of the entire world on his shoulders distantly wondered if he had made the right choice. That thought was followed by another: had the choice even been his? Even if he had told Mathias to stay put, the Virgin Knight, famed across the world for his purity, his strength, his conviction and his selflessness, would have set off towards the mountain pass all the same. It hurt to admit but him agreeing to it was most likely for the best. At least, now, Mathias would be heading into an impossible battle with better gear, fresh food and rested men. 

All he could do now was hope and pray that that would be enough. 

-

To say everything was going to plan would be a massive understatement. Rather, it’d be more appropriate to say that everything was going perfectly. 

Lounging lazily in the former Baron of Bellburn’s throne, one muscular leg swung over the armrest and bouncing idly, hearing the words of the report being given by one of her numerous sisters but not really listening to them, the Chieftess of the Horde, Mazoga surveyed the tattered remains of the royal hall, her gaze roaming over the splintered tables, the shredded curtains, the general disarray and debris of everything. Such an impressive establishment, reduced to nothing more than filth in a mere matter of moments. In her opinion, it was far more beautiful now. It’ll be even more beautiful once they burn it down into nothing but ash. That spectacle would come soon enough. For now, it was the Horde’s base of operations, and she was more than happy to make use of it until they were ready to move onto their next target. 

“Middale.” She muttered softly, a grin spreading across her face. 

“My sister?” The distorted Harpy giving the report inquired. 

“Nothing, my sister.” Mazoga laughed, “I am merely excited for what is to come.” 

“As am I.” The harpy smiled grotesquely, showing off two rows of unreasonably sharp teeth. “We shall finally march through the gates of Middale and claim all of Rybel for the Horde.” 

“Yes, my sister!” Mazoga hissed, pleased, “Now, you will have to forgive me but I lost myself in this beautiful destruction for a moment. Tell me, again, are the foolish slaves behaving as we expected?” 

“Yes, my sister.” The harpy nodded, her head wobbling atop her thin neck, “Our spies have reported that they are already mobilizing to send a squadron our way. Most likely with the intention to stop us from taking the mountain pass. What’s more, standing at the forefront of this fresh attempt at preventing their inevitable defeat is none other than the Virgin Knight.” 

Mazoga’s sharp ears perked up. Smiling hungrily, she leaned forward in her seat, excitement thundering through her veins, “You speak the truth?” 

“Yes, my sister.” The harpy responded excitedly, the coarse hair covering her entire body sticking straight up in her enthusiasm, “We have several reports that none other than he is marching straight to us.” 

A delighted shiver ran down her spine. Collapsing back into her throne, Mazoga laughed heartily, the noise filling up the near empty royal hall. All of her sisters responded in kind, adding to the echo of depraved laughter as it bounced off the torn, pockmarked walls. Grinning widely, her sharp tusks clenched together into a ferocious snarl, she said huskily, “Excellent. I have long waited for the chance to break that disgusting maggot. His fall from grace will be the final nail in those stupid slaves’ coffin!” 

Throwing out one arm in a wide, dramatic sweep, the grin on her face near maniacal now, she called, “Ready our best fighters! Take the Virgin Knight and all of his men alive! My sisters,” she dropped her voice to a low growl, favoring each of her beloved kin with a ferocious leer, “you know what to do.” 

No more words were necessary. Amongst a choir of loud shuffling, chortling and snorting, her sisters, ranging from tall, muscular orcs and ogres who filled up the doorway they were passed through to harpies with their leathery wings folded by their backs, flooded out of the royal chambers, excitement rolling off them in a near visible wave. Chuckling underneath her breath, Mazoga watched them go, nearly beside herself in excitement as well. The Virgin Knight was finally coming straight to her. She’d been looking for that maggot for months now. How terribly funny that now, when Middale was about to fall, when the last of the free people of Rybel were to become slaves to the Horde, he would come marching straight to her. A bolt of ecstatic heat raced down her spine, ending up as a gush of fluid that spilled over the former Baron’s throne. The Virgin Knight – he had killed more of her sisters than any other man alive. His purity, his strength, his conviction and kindness were legendary, even in the Horde. 

There was no one else in all of Rybel that the Horde wanted to break more than him. And now, they were finally being given their chance. The fucking shithead was walking straight into their hands. Perhaps even better, he was bringing a fresh batch of slaves with him. Lightly tapping the armrest with one finger, she took the moment’s quiet to think of all the things she was going to do to him. Break him, of course but there was so much fun to be had. While she would eventually had him over to the Horde for their enjoyment, she would have her way with him first. After all, she simply couldn’t stand the thought of someone else stealing away his precious virginity. It was her’s for the taking, and she planned to rip it away by force. 

What kind of face would he make? Would he cry? How long would he be able to hold on? Even the strongest of men lasted mere days underneath the mighty weight of the Horde so just how long? Will he immediately go insane from the never ending pleasure or would the horrors they’d inflict on him keep him sane? She couldn’t wait, she simply couldn’t wait! Excitement was roaring through her, overwhelming everything in a tingly wash of heat. Her pussy was practically soaked but yet, the slave between her legs was doing nothing to alleviate the ever growing pleasure. The grin on her face quickly turning downwards in dissatisfaction, she gave him a few more moments to see if that lacking tongue would get any better but when it proved to do so, she shoved him away with her foot. 

The slave fell to the floor with a startled, wet gasp. There it lay for several moments, breathing heavily, its tiny erection standing up shamelessly from a mess of brown pubic hairs, then slowly raised its head. Her frown turned into a disgusted snarl at the sight of its face. Mouth hanging open, tongue practically falling out of it, eyes glazed over and hazy, it was the epitome of completely broken. The slave lying on the floor before her had been the Baron of Bellburn, a spineless wuss of a man, whom she had thought it fun to break. Why on earth that sort of thought had ever crossed her mind, she would never know. Within moments of being intoxicated with the Kiss, the slave was mush, compliantly following along with everything she told it to do. Absolutely disgusting, she thought as she kicked away its attempt to return to its positioning of, supposedly, pleasuring her. Whining low in its chest, its face bright red and sweaty, it tried again and she delivered a much harder, solid kick to its midsection, immediately downing it. 

“Borba!” She called, noticing how even a kick to the stomach didn’t even seem to faze the slave. Looked as though the Kiss had really affected this one. Making a mental note to hand it over to some of the rougher kin, she looked up just as Borba, one of her orc sisters, a powerfully built warriors who could easily crush a man’s skull, came hurrying into the royal hall. 

“You called, my sister?” She asked, dropping down to one knee, the muscles in her thighs tensing up beautifully. 

“Rise, my sister.” Mazoga laughed, letting her eyes roam over her sister’s defined, naked midsection, “Now is not the time for formalities. Bring me a new slave. A fresh one, unbroken, if we have one.” 

Borba jumped up off the ground, her monstrous face twisting into an excited grin that showed off her sharp, yellowed tusks, “We have several, my sister! One of our patrols captured a group of runaways. They just brought them back!” 

“Excellent!” Mazoga cried out excitedly, “Well then, bring the men before me. I want to have my pick of the litter. Oh, and take this one with you. Throw him in the pen.” 

“Right away!” In the sort of quick fashion that Mazoga admired in her kin, Borba grabbed hold of the slave, threw it over her shoulder and scurried out. 

Settling back into her throne, expecting a long wait while her sisters rounded up all the fresh slaves that had been brought into camp, Mazoga was pleasantly surprised when, not a few minutes later, there came loud shouts of rage and defiance. The doors to the royal hall were thrown open as several of her sisters, most of them orcs as they were the strongest, began to drag in the new stock, lining them up in front of the throne, where Mazoga was given the best view. Each man had been stripped down to nothing. Everything was laid bear for the sisters to see. Some were obviously deeply humiliated by this. They bowed their heads, attempted to curl in on themselves as though that might shield their most private parts being seen. Others did not seem to care one inch. Backs ramrod straight, they snarled and sneered, thrusting their chests out like big men did. Those were the type of slaves Mazoga enjoyed so, with a wave of her hand, she signaled for her sisters to take away the meek slaves. Some would go straight to the pen, where they’d be intoxicated with the Kiss. Others would be immediately handed over to the Horde so they could begin their new lives as slaves. 

Surveying the remaining men, she took in the tiniest detail, all the way from the spark in their eyes to the size of their cocks, before making her decision. Ultimately, she settled on a large, muscular man who silently glared up at her, unflinching, uncaring of his nakedness, of the jeers of her sisters. She could see an incredible pride in those dark eyes. That was a pride she wanted to shatter into a million pieces. Hungrily licking her lower lip, she indicated with a flick of her wrist which one she wanted then laughed softly when the other men, the ones who weren’t quite up to her standards, were immediately seized by the sisters on standby. Thrown to the floor, their cocks were roughly sucked, stroked and caressed until they were rock hard and weeping precum. Cries of alarm, horror and dismay echoed throughout the destroyed royal hall as her sisters wasted no time in breaking in their new slaves. Smiling widely as the man was dragged to the throne by two of the remaining sisters, she reached forward to give its head a little pat. 

“Are you married?” She asked it, hoping that it’d say yes. If it were, then she could only hope the wife had been captured alongside it. There truly was nothing better than making the wives watch. They cried the most wonderful tears as they witnessed their husbands being violated. Since this one was acting so prideful, she might have to get the little wifey involved as well. Fucking it while making it watch as one of her sisters devoured the wife’s pussy or ass or both always created a beautiful symphony. Her mouth began to water at the mere thought. 

“You beasts killed my wife.” It muttered darkly, never taking that strong gaze of her face. 

Mazoga sighed in disappointment. This was why she discouraged her sisters from killing when they could. There was so much amazing torment to inflict when all the family members were alive and well. How could she torture the slaves with the knowledge that they were being watched by people they love so dearly as they were being repeatedly raped if those people were dead? Well, that wasn’t as good as her being alive and out there somewhere but she’d take what she could get. It had had one at some point, that was all that mattered. Planting a foot in the middle of its chest, she shoved it down to the floor. In a practiced movement, one of her sisters stepped forward, settled a knee on one of its shoulders to keep it still as she began to roughly caress it soft, exposed cock with her foot. With a startled yelp, it tried to wrench away but couldn’t move an inch with her sister restraining him. Eyes going wide in horror, frantically shaking its head as the realization of what was going to happen to it seemed to slam into it with full force, it clenched its teeth into a fearsome snarl, breathing hard through the gaps between its teeth. 

“Does it feel good?” She cooed, pushing her heel down against its heavy balls, “I bet you haven’t gotten any release since your wife died. How much do you suppose is stored up in there?” 

“Fuck you.” It growled, sounding big and tough despite its cock being fully erect. Precum flowed in a constant stream out of the slit. Red was blooming in the slave’s scruffy cheeks. That certainly hadn’t taken long. She hoped it wouldn’t break as quickly. 

“That is the plan.” She laughed, shaking precum off her foot. Getting to her feet, she placed one foot on either side of the slave’s hips, squatted down until its head was brushing against her, shivering at its intense heat then took a moment to wrap one hand around the thick, hard length and teasingly rubbed it against the folds of her wet pussy. Snorting loudly when the slave’s cock twitched violently, she derisively sneered, “What would your wife think of you now? Getting all hot and bothered because of an orc’s pussy.” 

“Shut up!” The slave roared, tears leaking out of the corner of its eyes. 

“You’re twitching.” She laughed mockingly, pushing the head against her hole, hungrily licking her lips at the sensation of that hard mass getting that much closer to penetrating her. Pinching one of the slave’s nipples, laughing again when that incited a delicious shiver and a pronounced yelp, as well as another mighty cock twitch, “Your cock is practically begging to be inside of me.” 

“Shut up! Shut up! Stop! Don’t touch me!” The slave shrieked, desperately throwing itself against its restraints. And yet, it was no use. For all the strength it obviously had, it was no match for the strength of her sisters. The one with a knee on its shoulder glanced pleadingly up at her and when she benevolently nodded with a bright smile on her face, her sister began to play excitedly with his large pecs, tightly squeezing the defined muscle, pinching the cute little nipples and laughing harshly when it made an exaggerated grimace of disgust. 

Normally, she’d take a while longer to tease her fresh pups but the previous excitement and the hunger for it to be the Virgin Knight underneath her was too much for her restraint. Smiling cruelly, she reached down with her other hand, grabbed hold of the slave’s chin and forced it to look her in the eye as she made sure its cock was positioned just right then slammed her hips down, taking the entire length in. The sound the slave made as it penetrated her was glorious. Sobbing audibly, its hips pushing up against her, either to drive itself even deeper into her hole or in an last ditch attempt to get her off, it wailed, “Sarah! Forgive me, Sarah! Forgive me! Sarah!” 

Oh yes, she thought deliriously to herself as she pumped her hips, grinding the hard, hot head of her newly acquired slave against her insides, she would have fun with this one until the Virgin Knight appeared. Rolling her hips, tossing her head back as pleasure radiated up her spine, she squeezed and caressed her breasts. Pulling lightly on her pierced nipples, she moaned low in her chest then motioned with one hand for another sister to join her. Carelessly tossing side the slave she had been furiously performing oral on, the sister rushed over, dropped down so that both knees were resting on either side of the slave’s head and smooshed her pussy against it face. Grinding her hips, she commanded it to lick and when it failed to do so, either out of defiance or it couldn’t hear her over the sound of its own muffled wails, she reached down, between Mazoga and the slave, gripped hold of its balls and squeezed hard. Judging by the pleased expression that crossed her face a moment later, Mazoga guessed the slave had decided to start obeying. Yes, she was going to have a lot of fun with this one until the Virgin Knight showed himself. Until then, she might just see how many times she could get this slave to cum before he needed the Kiss. Judging by how quick the pace of its breath had become, it was obvious it wasn’t too far off from orgasm number one. 

There would be many, many more in it future. After all, there was a whole Horde waiting to be serviced by it. When she was done with it, it would go on to join the army of slaves, all doing their duty to ensure the numbers of the Horde stayed at a constant high. 

-

She had found him before he set off. With tears swelling in the corner of her eyes, a tremble shaking her plump lower lip, she pushed a soft, clean handkerchief into his hand. Closing her thin, nimble fingers on his far too large, blunt, cracked, ugly hand that looked that much uglier underneath her clean, pristine, white hand, she had looked up at him, let out a shuddering breath and asked in a sweet, soft voice, “You will come back?” 

Just looking into her eyes had been nearly enough to bowl him over. Staring down at her, he had wondered how men with wives and family do it. How could they separate themselves from those they loved so dearly, especially when they knew the likelihood of them never returning was so terrifyingly high? Of course, he could reason they did it with the thought that they could protect their loved ones by fighting but truly, how could they manage it? Looking into her eyes, seeing how she was right on the verge of breaking down into sobs, he had been slammed by an intense desire to remain, to take her into his arms and squeeze her gently, to never, ever leave her side. That had been a desire he roughly shoved away. Staying behind, that would mean the end of Middale – it might even mean the end of Rybel entirely. What he was doing, it was their only hope. There wasn’t any way he could forsake that because of one woman. No matter how dearly he cared for her, there was a bigger call he had to answer. 

Offering what he had hoped was a gentle smile, he had nodded stiffly, desperately wishing that she would stop touching him because the feeling of her smooth, soft skin against his own was intensely distracting, “I will return.” 

Sniffling loudly, she had bowed her head, took a step back, pulling her hand away as she did so, immediately leaving him with a terrible sense of loss and a want to grab hold of her lovely hand once more, another desire he had shoved away, then had peeked up at him through thick eyelashes, “I will be waiting for you.” 

His breath had hitched in his throat at those soft, simple words. She would be waiting for him. There would be someone waiting for him. Those beautiful words had filled him with such a tremendous courage, an incredible feeling that he could do anything. She was waiting for him. And when he returned, he would finally tell her. The feelings that had been bottled up inside of him for so long…he would finally reveal them. He would take her into his arms, whisper the words he had wanted to say for so long but had never had the courage to do so then with the smell of orc blood still on him, the intense relief of victory swelling inside his chest, he would kiss her. Gently, sweetly, as though she were the most important being in the entire world. Because she was…she is, and he would return to her. 

She was waiting for him. She was waiting for him to return. He couldn’t…he couldn’t afford to fail. He couldn’t afford to fall. 

Panting hard, his sword held tightly in one bloodstained hand, the other hand loosely grasping his side, a prayer on his lips that the blade that had just been swung at him had just barely missed him, Mathias shot a quick, frantic glance around the battlefield. Many of his men, some of them soldiers, trained and able; others were refugees and townsfolk who had volunteered to fight with them against the Horde, were downed. Dead or badly injured, he couldn’t tell which. Rampaging through his squadron, the Horde’s beasts were hardly scathed. They had hardly made a dent in their numbers. Panic was beginning to spread. His men were quickly coming to realization that they were greatly outnumbered and outskilled. Struggling to keep his own panic under control, knowing full well that if he showed even an ounce of fear, that would send all of his men scurrying, Mathias parried a blow from the goblin standing before him, kicked it away then roared at the top of his lungs, “Stay strong! Don’t give them an-“ 

Before he could finish, something hard slammed into the back of his head. As he was falling, consciousness fading away into a black nothingness, the only thought in his mind was that of Mireielle, his love waiting for him back in Middale. Right now, she’d be standing on the gate wall, looking east, to the point where he had marched an army made up of weary soldiers and refugees into a battle they couldn’t possibly hope to win. Would she still be there, watching as the Horde marched towards Middale? Would she begin to weep as the beasts approached, knowing that he had failed? 

He couldn’t let that happen. His vision was fading. He couldn’t let her cry. He had to get back to her. He had to tell her. 

He needed to tell her that he loved her. 

-

As he slowly regained consciousness, the first thing he became aware of was that he was awfully cold. That realization wasn’t anywhere near as alarming as the next one to cross his mind: he was cold because he was naked. Eyes flying open, Mathias took in a deep, shuddering breath, his gaze darting around as he quickly took in his surroundings. He was in a hall of some kind – one that had been utterly destroyed at some point. Other than the walls and the throne before him, everything was in shambles. It looked as though a powerful storm had blown through, destroying everything in its path. Swallowing hard, panic fluttering inside his chest like a caged bird, Mathias tried to get up but found himself unable to. Blinking rapidly, he turned his attention to himself for the first time since he’d awoken. Not only was he naked, he was tied up as well. Strong ropes encircled his wrists and ankles, binding them together. He could hardly move at all, let alone get up. 

The panic started to intensify as he tugged hard against the bonds holding them, hoping desperately that he might be able to loosen them just enough that he could slip a hand free. To his dismay, he found it to be useless. No matter how hard he pulled, how much he struggled, he couldn’t get the restraints to budge an inch. Panting hard, sweat rolling down his forehead, spilling through his eyebrows and into his eyes, making them sting, he struggled to keep the panic growing inside of him under control. Right now was not the time to be giving into fear. He needed to think of some way out of this. 

“You know,” said a darkly amused voice from somewhere behind him, “I expected you to be younger.” 

Wrenching his head around, looking over his shoulder as best he could, he got the barest glimpse of a hideous orc standing not a few feet away from him. Immediately apparent to be female, as all the beasts in the Horde seemed to be, she was half-naked, wearing only an open pair of trousers that clung loosely to her wide hips. Large, sagging breasts hung disgustingly like udders from her chest. Both nipples were pierced with thick rods of steel. Her body was massive, disturbingly muscular and powerfully built. Just by looking at her, Mathias could tell that going up against her in a one to one fight would be incredibly difficult. Her thighs were so large that he wouldn’t be able to wrap both hands around them. Her arms were bulging with muscle, even though she was relaxed. Every inch of her screamed power. Above, her face was a mess of features: tusks the size of his thumb shot up from her too big for her face mouth, beady red eyes stared hungrily down at him, a squashed nose that was missing a chunk out of the tip sat between them, her skin was mottled and varying shades of green, and what little hair she had was pulled back into a messy ponytail. Scars crisscrossed over the visible part of her body, creating a network of shiny, white skin. Too long arms, connected to sharp nailed hands, hung idly by her side. She was every bit as ugly as any other of the Horde, and Mathias immediately longed to have his sword in his head so that he might chop her head off. 

“But,” she laughed, striding confidently closer to her, “you are pretty, at least.” 

The hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up. A sickening shuddering raced through him at receiving such a compliment from something as horrid as her. Setting his mouth into a thin line, he stared up at her, loathing the fact that he was forced to look up while she leered downwards, and asked, “Where are my men?” 

“Out there.” She answered easily, jerking one thumb over her shoulder. “Getting their brains fucked out by my sisters. They’re already gotten a few pregnant but alas, we monsters’ reproductive systems are fickle. It takes many attempts before we’re able to produce.” 

“What?” Mathias breathed, eyes going wide in horror, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. 

“The men,” she continued, squatting down beside him, bringing with her a smell of rotting meat and putrid body odor, “you brought with you have been turned into slaves whose only purpose now is to bring more of my kind into the world. Well, that, and servicing my sisters.” The corners of her lips curled upwards in a cruel, cold smile, making his skin crawl. 

“You’re lying.” Cold was spreading throughout his body from a single pinpoint in his chest. Numbness afflicted the tips of his fingers. There was a terrible ringing in his ears that made his head spin. This couldn’t be happening – not even the Horde would stoop to such a despicable low! 

“And you’re next.” The orc smiled hideously, “Well, first, we’ll have to do something about that virginity of yours, Sir Virgin Knight.” Leaning her head back thoughtfully, she tapped his cheek with one thick finger, sending a shockwave of disgust rolling through him, “I was originally planning to take you myself, seeing as how your purity is so important to you but I think, considering how many of my sisters are clamoring for their chance to mess you up,” the orc heaved a heavy sigh, slowly shaking her head, “I, as their Chieftess, have to give my sisters what they want! After all, they fight so hard for our cause.” 

Another tap on his cheek. He was so cold that he was shivering. Shuddering breaths forced their way in and out of his flared nostrils. This couldn’t be happening. None of what this beast was saying was real! The horrid monster was simply trying to scare him. It would not work. Even in the face of this heinous lie, he would remain strong. Clenching his teeth, he stared up at her, unflinching and unafraid as the smile on her hideous face widened. Brushing mussed locks out of his face with mocking gentleness, she continued, “It is such a shame, though. Such purity, such cleanness. It makes me want to defile you until you weep. Still,” she shrugged once more, “watching you be repeatedly raped by my sisters will certainly be wonderful. There are other two thousands of them out there, all of them waiting for their chance to have their way with you.” 

“Silence.” He seethed, “Don’t try to scare me with such blatant lies!” 

“Oh,” she murmured, completely ignoring his previous demand, trailing her thick fingers down from his hair to his neck than to his shoulder, leaving behind a sickening trail of warmth, “the things they’ll do to you. We aren’t just satisfied with penetration, you know. Don’t get me wrong! That dirty cock of yours,” his body jerked violently when she suddenly reached down to wrap her large fingers around his soft cock, “will be used many times over by my sisters. I wonder how many of them you’ll be raped by before you pass out. But that won’t be where it stops. Especially not when it comes to someone like you. No, we live to defile. Every inch of your body will be violated. Your mouth, your cock, all of you. We will turn you into a sex toy, into something that lives just to fuck and reproduce.” She sneered viciously, “Not that’s any different from what you people do normally.” 

Bringing her face close, she gave his cock a light squeeze, sending a shockwave of disgust rippling through him, “We will expose you to pleasure that you would have never thought possible. We will fuck you until you’re cumming water. And you’ll keep cumming, until your balls are completely empty and every orgasm is torture. But you will keep cumming, over and over and over again until you’ve completely lost your mind. Take one last good look at yourself, Mr. Virgin Knight, because everything you are, everything you value and love, is about to crushed underneath the weight of the Horde’s might. We will rape you until your mind shatters. And when it does, you will beg to impregnate us, you will beg to for us to make you cum.” 

“You can’t scare me.” Mathias snarled softly, his lip curling in disgust, “Do your worst, hag. I will not fall to you.” 

Laughing uproariously, the orc threw her head back, her sagging breasts swinging violently at the movement, then abruptly stood, grabbed him by the ropes binding together his ankles and dragged him towards the hall doors. Breathing hard, his heart racing with terror despite the bravado of his words, Mathias braced himself for whatever horror waited him outside. While he truly didn’t believe even the Horde would sink to such lows as using his fellows as breeding stock, he did know they were capable of inhumanely cruel deeds. Without a doubt, there was nothing but pain and misery awaiting him on the other side of those doors but he would face it with valor and strength. No matter what they did to him, he would return to Mireielle and tell her how he felt. There was a happily ever after waiting for them, even if he had to force it to happen. 

Holding tightly onto that thought, he prayed to the Gods to give him strength to endure this as the hideous orc pulled him outside, into the blooming light of early morning. Once they were outside, his ears were assaulted by screeching wails, sobbing moans, incoherent begging and miscellaneous cacophonies of misery. It was horrific to listen to. There was no sense to the noise; only an endless stream of agony pouring out into the morning air. He longed to be able to cover his ears, to block out the horror he was hearing. What horrific things were these beasts doing to his people to cause such a racket? Shoving away the intrusive thought that the orc might have been telling the truth, and what was awaiting him was repeated violation, Mathias held the image of Mireielle’s face in his mind eye as the orc easily picked him up off the ground, threw him over her shoulder and walked down a flight of wooden stairs. 

Whatever was waiting for him, he would endure it. He would, no matter what. Struggling not to gag as the disgusting scent of the orc floated all around him, Mathias waited for the next thing to happen. He wasn’t made to wait long. Within a few steps from the bottom stair, he was deposited onto what felt like a wooden bed. Large hands quickly tied his own to a post behind his head, while his legs were left alone. Above him, all around him, were monsters of the Hordes. There were ogres, who stood several heads above him, outweighed him by several hundred pounds, no fat – only thick muscle, towering like immense pale mountains. Strangely enough, despite their massive size and intense muscle mass, they were the ones who looked the less hideous in the facial region. Nowhere near beautiful given how piggish their noses were, how disturbingly wide their eyes were and how, when they opened their mouths, two rows of dull, yellow teeth were revealed. There were orcs as well. Smaller than ogres but boasting similar muscle mass, they were a brutish bunch with mangled faces, sharp tusks and shaven heads that glinted in the sun. The orcs ranged in color from dark green to light purple, though all of them were covered in marks of white – scars, trophies of the battles they’d fought. Mixed amongst them were Harpies, half-bird, half-woman, all disgusting. The torso was human and covered in a thick layer of coarse hair, while the bottom half was the bird area. That wouldn’t be too horrifying if it weren’t for their mutilated faces, distorted somewhere between the face of a woman and the beak of a bird. Several feet smaller than both the orcs and ogres, they clucked and chirped, wiggling their leathery wings with an air of impatience. There were also many Banshees, tall thin wisps of skeletal bodies, wafting around as though they were just barely holding onto their connection to this world. 

And more, multiple different races of monster that he had no name for, each one equally horrifying and hideous. Dozens of hungry, wanting eyes stared down at him. Tongues ran across cracked lips as though ravenous gazes devoured his body. His skin began to crawl disconcertingly as more and more of the beasts appeared. There were so many that he couldn’t see beyond them to what was happening in the town. There were so many that their collective panting was overwhelming the sounds of despair coming from the town. Swallowing hard, his stomach doing summersaults, his heart racing, Mathias’s eyes flickered to the half-naked orc as she strode over to his side. 

Smiling down demurely at him, a truly despicable expression that, even in his terrified state, he longed to be able to smash straight off her disgusting face, she said, “We’ll see how long you’ll last without the Kiss. Considering you’re a virgin, you’ll probably be able to go quite a few rounds.” 

“The kiss?” He asked, despising how shaky his voice sounded. 

“A drug we use to ensure you slaves never lose an erection. With it, you’ll be able to cum until you pass out.” 

The realization that all of this was real slammed into him at such a speed that all the breath was shoved out of his lungs. Staring up at the orc in absolute horror, he came very close to being completely lost to it but was able to grab hold of his composure at the very last moment. For her…for his Mireielle, he would return. He had told himself no matter what, absolutely no matter what, he would return to her. If it meant he had to endure this kind of utter humiliation, then he would. Settling his trembling lips into a thin frown, he sucked in a deep breath, let it out slowly and said, “Do your worse, beast.” 

Without a doubt, when he was free of this horror, this orc would be the first to taste his blade. Rage burned wildly inside of his chest, driving away every ounce of terror. Smiling widely, the orc chuckled then turned to address the crowd, “You’ve heard him! My sisters, do your worse! In order to ensure chaos will not break out, our generals and their seconds will have first taste of this delectable morsel.” 

He could do this. He could withstand this. As a loud cheer of delight rippled through the crowd of monsters, Mathias closed his eyes, sent another fervent plea up to the Gods to give him enough strength to endure this cruelty. For his Mireielle, he would endure. For his people, he would endure. Rough hands grabbed hold of him, making him jump and grimace in disgust. Hands pushed his legs apart then up, completely bearing his most intimate, private parts to the monsters. Nausea rolled violently inside his stomach, threatening to expel whatever contents were in there. Another hand wrapped around his soft dick and began to pump with enthusiasm. To his intense shame, his body immediately betrayed him. Within moments, he was rock hard, much to the delight of the Horde. 

“What a slut!” An orc with one eye missing, the hole where it had once been left uncovered so he could see the pink flesh inside her head. 

“Getting hard from getting his willy stroked by one of the monsters it hates so much!” A harpy shrieked, toddling forward, flapping her wings in excitement. 

“Bet you he’ll cum buckets!” 

“Bet you he cries when he cums!” 

Thick fingers suddenly grabbed a fistful of his hair, wrenching his head back as a slimy pair of lips began to roughly kiss him. Opening his eyes in shock, getting an eyeful of the grotesque face of the ogre kissing him, he tried to pull his head away but the hold on his hair was too strong. A disgusting tongue dragged against the seam of his lips, tracing the outline of them before another hand clamped down on his chin, pulling downwards, wrenching his mouth open so that horrid tongue could push deep into his mouth. Gagging, both from having a monster’s tongue in his mouth and the taste spreading along his own tongue, Mathias desperately longed to bite down, to sink his teeth deep into that tongue but just like the hold on his hair, the one of his chin was unmovable. 

“He tastes so good!” The ogre with the tongue in his mouth declared, its voice muffled and distorted. 

“I can’t wait anymore!” A monster below him, out of his line of sight, suddenly cried out, amongst sounds of shuffling. There was some laughter, some cheering he couldn’t make out then a clear, coherent voice cried out, “Here’s to the Virgin Knight being virgin no longer!” 

Before he could register the true meaning of those words, he felt a monster straddle his hips then the head of his cock was brushing against something hot and wet. Looking down, he was horrified to find it to be an orc, its genital area completely exposed, its powerful body shivering with excitement as it arranged itself into positon. Disgust crashed over him in a mighty wave of cold horror. This was it. Tears burnt the corners of his eyes but he would not let them fall. This was it. He was going to be defiled, he was going to be violated. His virginity, his purity, they were going to steal everything from him. Grimacing against the writhing tongue fucking his mouth, he held tightly to the memory of Mireielle standing at the entrance into town, tears streaming down her cheeks, waving one thin hand as he marched off into the distance. There was no way these beasts would break him. Not when he had someone waiting for him. 

There was a terrible moment’s hush then the orc straddling his hips sunk down, impaling itself on his rock hard cock. The heat, the tightness was so insanely intense, so far beyond what he was prepared for that before it had even taken him in halfway, he came with a startled jerk. It was so sudden that there was no sensation other than that of urinating. The orc came to a stop, then loud, uproarious laughter slammed down onto him. Shrieking with delight, she started to rapidly thrust her hips, squeezing his already over-sensitive cock with her hot, wet insides, sending shockwaves of horrid pleasures crashing over him. He couldn’t believe it…a monster’s pussy…a monster’s pussy was making him feel good! 

“He came!” She screeched, “I barely put it in and he came! He came! What a little whore!” 

“Just like a virgin.” An ogre with an amused smile spread across her scarred face, muscular arms crossed over her broad chest, laughed derisively. 

“Come on!” The orc raping him screamed, “Cum again! Cum again, you whore!” 

Gasping loudly when the ogre’s tongue was pulled out of his mouth, Mathias was finally able to wrench his head away. Over and over again, he told himself it didn’t feel good. This monster was not making him feel good! Yet, no matter how many times he told himself that, he couldn’t deny the pleasure radiating up from the base of his stomach, shrieking up his spine and into his mind, where it made his brain feel a bit like mush. As the orc continued to rape him, pushing his cock deep into her wet pussy, he could feel another orgasm building. Clenching his teeth together, he squeezed his eyes shut, focused on the image of Mireielle’s face but found that only inspired a fresh wave of guilt. He had wanted, he had hoped to give her his first time. No, he would not think about that! In the eyes of the Gods, in the eyes of Mireielle, in his eyes, he was still a virgin. There was no doubt in his mind that he would get out of this and when he did, he would happily give his first to Mireielle, just as she would give her first to him. 

Just as that thought was crossing his mind, he came again. This time, the pleasure that rippled through him was so intense that it felt like he was unraveling. Arching his back, his hips unconsciously bucking upwards as he came for the second time inside the monster, Mathias swallowed down a moan, thoroughly unwilling to give these beasts even the slightest indication that this was feeling good. Howling loudly, sounding like a feral animal, the pace of the orc’s hips quickened, slamming down onto him at a near brutal speed as its inside clammed down so strongly onto him that he felt as though his dick might be ripped straight off then abruptly, it came to a standstill as it let out another animalistic moan. The corners of his lips pulled down as he realized that it had cum as well. His cock had made a beast cum. That was far more shameful than having cum himself. 

Panting happily, the orc slid off him, patting her stomach proudly, “I can feel it. That definitely got me pregnant.” 

His heart seized at those words. His cock had made it cum, he had cum because of a monster’s pussy and it was pregnant with another beast. There truly was nothing worse than that. It was as a Harpy, twittering and clucking, was climbing up onto the wooden bed, clear in its intent to be the next to rape him, that he realized he would be impregnating all of these beasts. Perhaps, even, he would be impregnating them multiple times over. That thought momentarily overwhelmed him, causing him to be completely unaware when the Harpy sunk down onto his cock and began to fuck him in earnest. Cold coated his skin. He was going to impregnate these beasts. He was going to bring more beasts into the world. That…that was unbearable. Biting down hard on his tongue, the wave of pain helping him grab hold of himself, he told himself that for every monster he brought into this world, he would kill a hundred of them. 

He would kill every single monster he brought into this world. 

With a muffled moan, he came again, spraying the insides of the Harpy with cum. It gasped, its distorted body covered in thick, rough hair shuddering, but didn’t cease in its thrusting. Mouth hanging open, revealing two lines of sharp teeth, it continued to pump its hips, driving his cock in deep until he came again. Each time he came, the pleasure intensified, rushing through his veins in electric zaps that made his skin tingle. Each time, the shame and guilt building up inside his chest intensified until he felt for certain that he might suffocate underneath the weight. He didn’t want it to feel good, yet there was nothing he could do. After the second time, the monster currently bouncing on his cock came, twittering happily as it rolled its hips. Immediately after it slid off, another took its place. 

However, this time, he was not allowed just one monster at a time. The crowd seemed to grow impatient with the slow progression. Several monsters moved forward at once. Another orc, this one slightly larger and with a considerable pouch of a stomach drooping over her sex climbed up onto the table near his head, positioned itself so its pussy was directly above his face, giving him a disgusting view of its mottled, hairy genitals. Just as hideous as it was, not that he expected anything else. Lightly tapping his chest, it cooed out an order, “Lick me or I’ll go find one of your precious townfolks. You can guess what’ll happen to them if I have to do that, right?” 

He didn’t need any further elaboration than that. Nodding stiffly, he could only watch in dismay as the monster’s pussy came closer to his face. It was only when it was pressing against his nose that it finally stopped. Breathing through his mouth so he didn’t have to smell that vile scent coming off of it, Mathias clenched his eyes shut, stuck out his tongue and began to hesitantly lick the monster’s pussy. The taste was vulgar. The texture against his tongue was abysmal. It was beyond disgusting, yet he knew he couldn’t stop. Rubbing his tongue against the pronounced folds, against the little bud at the top, he licked and sucked and caressed until the monster came, splattering his face with viscous fluid. Unfortunately, this new display seemed to have gotten the crowd riled up even more. Before the monster could get all the way off, another one was scrambling to take her place. It moved so fast that he couldn’t even make out what it was. His hands were abruptly cut free as another monster took the place over his head, smooshing its pussy against his face with enough force that he was momentarily unable to breathe. As he started to service it as well, his hands were shoved between two different pairs of legs. 

“Use your fingers.” A voice from somewhere commanded, “Or we might just go find one of your men and throw him off the nearest cliff.” 

Would there be no part of him left untouched when all this was over? His tongue, his cock, his fingers, what next? The moment the thought rolled across his mind, he knew he had fucked himself. While the current monster on his cock continued to bounce away, he could feel one getting in-between his legs. Thrusting his fingers up into the wet, suction of the monster’s pussies, his eyes bulged out of their sockets when he felt thick fingers, coated in something slimy, brush against his asshole. They wouldn’t…they wouldn’t dare touch him there. Not even they would be that depraved! Laughter floated in from somewhere then, they did exactly what he thought not even they would do. Fingers pushed into his ass, forcing apart the tight muscles as they slid into a place that no one should be touching. Letting out a muffled howl, he wrenched his hands away from the monster’s pussies and began to flail aimlessly. Not there, anywhere but there! The sensation of those wet fingers inside of him was near enough to make him vomit. It felt so wrong, so foreign that he couldn’t stand it! 

“Oh! Looks like he doesn’t like that!” Said a monster from somewhere above him. 

“He’ll like it soon enough.” Another laughed mockingly as the fingers sunk deeper inside of him. 

Both of his hands were grabbed and forced back to their previous station, “Who said you could stop?” 

Knowing that there was nothing he could do, that resisting would only lead to someone else getting hurt, Mathias tearfully began to thrust his fingers into the monster’s pussies again, rubbing his tongue against the wet, sloppy monster’s pussy as his own ass was violated. This went beyond humiliating. When he got out of all this, he didn’t know how he’d be able to look anyone in the face. Mireielle, Iefyr, Umrielyth, how would he be able to face any of them when his entire body had been violated by these heinous monsters? That was a question he didn’t have an answer too but he would figure it out, someway, somehow. He just needed…he needed to stay strong. With a shudder, he came again, intensely loathing the pleasure cumming inspired. Just as the monster on his cock was sliding off, Mathias felt something cold and hard press against his ass. 

“Here we go! Get ready to lose your anal virginity too, you slut!” With a loud, barking laughter, the monster between his legs thrust something impossibly hard, impossibly big into his ass. Screaming at the top of his lungs, the sound muffled by the monster pussy pressed against his face, Mathias buckled against the intruding mass in his ass, frantically squirming around as the monster pounded into him. It hurt, it hurt so badly that he felt he might split in half! Wailing, sobbing, he shrieked, “Take it out! Take it out! You’re breaking me!” 

The only response was laughter. His face was forced back into a disgusting pussy but in his agony of being penetrated, he couldn’t find the motivation to lick. Another monster impaled itself on his cock but the thick rod of steel buried deep into his ass had chased away all hints of hardness. He was as soft as wet bread. Somewhere, there was a cry for whatever the Kiss was, followed immediately by the monster pushing his face into its pussy being shoved off him and something cold being splashed into his wide open mouth. Choking, gagging and sputtering, he accidentally swallowed down a mouthful. The reaction was swift and immediate. Heat exploded in the base of his stomach, completely overwhelming every iota of pain. Gasping loudly, he raised his head to see a shameless erection sticking straight up from his pubic hair. Shaking his head violently, he gasped, “No more! No more, please!” 

“What’s this? Giving in already, huh?” The orc between his legs asked mockingly as it continued to violate his ass. To his horror, whatever the beasts had just poured into his mouth, this Kiss, was working in such a way that his ass…his ass was starting to feel good! There wasn’t any pain left for him to focus on. The only thing left was an intense, terrifying pleasure coursing through him, assaulting his veins with such a ferocious heat that he feared he might spontaneously combust. He couldn’t think. His brain was complete mush. Panting hard, sweat drenching his forehead and underarms, he desperately tried to focus on anything else, anything to take his mind off that terrible pleasure but it the effort proved worthless when yet another monster stepped forward to take possession of his cock. When his dick slid into that tight, wet heat, a wail ripped its way out of his throat. Throwing his head back, eyes squeezed shut, he moaned loudly as cum exploded out of his cock. 

Howling laughter poured into his ears. Shameful, burning tears spilled down his cheeks as he sobbed quietly. Death would be preferred to this humiliation. Feeling such incredible pleasure while he impregnated the Horde, there could be nothing worse than this. His hands were grabbed once again, shoved between thick thighs of two towering ogres, their massive eyes glaring down at him with intense lust burning within their depths and forced to finger the putrid pussies of the monsters. A Banshee straddled his head but this time, it was its sharp, bony ass that was pressed against his face. There was no need for instructions. Even his foggy, pleasure addled mind could figure out what it wanted from him. Sobbing softly, he stuck out his tongue and began to rub it against the beast’s disgusting asshole, much to the delight of the monster itself and the crowd. 

“That’s it!” It cried, pushing down harder against him, “That’s it, you whore! Come on! Really dig it in there!” 

All he could do was obey. He couldn’t drag his mind away from what was happening to him. Everything…everything felt so heinously good, and there was no way to escape it. There were so many of them. Without giving him a single moment’s rest, they continued to rape him. When the monster between his legs was finished, it simply moved out of the way to let another Harpy take its place. This one immediately shoved a long, tentacle like tongue up his ass, viciously caressing his raw, abused insides, bringing him to climax almost instantaneously when that horrid tongue brushed up against a sensitive bundle of nerves inside of him. When the one straddling his head finally came, it was shoved away so another pussy could take its place. A dull ache settled into his jaw as he repeatedly used his mouth, his tongue to service their disgusting genitals. His fingers were repeatedly shoved into the tight maws of multiple monster pussies and assholes until they ached from the repeated movement. One after another, he used his fingers to get them off as they growled, grunt and howled like animals. 

His cock was the worse off. The kiss kept him hard and able to cum as beast after beast impaled itself on it, violently thrusting their hips, slamming down onto him until they wrung out yet another orgasm. A great many of them proudly declared that they were pregnant as they pulled off, and each time, his soul shattered a little more at hearing those words. More of them, he was responsible for bringing more of them into the world. How would he ever be able to face Mireielle again, knowing he had fathered so many beasts? 

Sobbing, his face covered in tears and fluids, he gasped as yet another monster slid off his cock, “No more! I can’t!” 

How many times had he cum now? How many monsters had he impregnated? It felt like an eternity had passed, yet a glance around the crowd revealed that the number of monsters hadn’t diminished. Rather, it had grown. There were even more now, all staring at him with hungry eyes, impatiently waiting their turn. Despair bloomed inside his chest, throwing a dark shadow over his mind. There were so many. He couldn’t take much more of this. His mind…his mind was splintering! Shaking his head, he wailed, “No more! Please! Have mercy!” 

Every word fell on deaf ears. No matter how loudly, how tearfully he begged, there was no mercy to be had. On and on it went – his cock, his hands, his mouth, his ass, every inch of him was used to service the beasts as they wrung orgasm after orgasm out of him. He lost all sense of time. There was nothing but the overwhelming pleasure the Kiss, the beasts had forced on him, and the monsters continuously making use of his body. More and more came, filling his ears with their grating moans and cries, violating his body and mind as though he were nothing more than a piece of meat. His penis hurt, his balls hurt, everything hurt, yet all the pain was made insignificant by wave after wave of hellish, never ending pleasure. There were no thoughts left, no reassurances that he’d be able to get out, to get away. All there was left was the continuing stream of monsters, climbing up onto the table to make use of his cock, his mouth, his hands and his ass. Darkness was closing in on him. The edges of his vision were dimming. As yet another orgasm crashed against him, wrenching a low whine out of the deepest part of his chest, he could feel himself losing consciousness. That seemed to matter none to the Horde, who continued to gleefully rape him, despite the lack of reactions coming from him. 

“No more.” He whispered as he faded away into blissful nothingness, “I have….I have to return….I have to go back…” 

She was waiting for him. Mireielle was waiting for him. 

He had….he had to return….no matter what…


	2. Chapter 2

There was no other option left to them. 

Umrielyth was sniffling quietly by his side, one thin hand clapped over her mouth as she struggled to hold back sobs, the other gripped onto his shoulder like a drowning man would cling to a piece of driftwood to keep him afloat. Surrounding him were the advisors of Middale. Each one had a similar expression of pale grief and horror plastered across their exhausted faces. He longed to say something, anything to reassure them but would could be said in a moment like this? The Horde was marching towards Middale. By the next morning, the monsters would be at their door. It could potentially be a bloodbath if they did not play their cards right. Right now, they were being given a chance to spare the townsfolk, the good people of Rybel but it came at a terrible cost. 

His throat tightened as his eyes rested on the scroll sitting on the table in front of him. Written upon it in crude, sharp letters was the Horde’s demands: surrender the city, himself, his wife and all the remaining soldiers, and the townsfolk would be spared. From the crude wording, he got the sense that he would be handing himself, his wife and all his men over as prisoners, rather than to be executed. He knew this was a chance that not many would get. The Horde was not known to be diplomatic. If he were to be honest with himself, he’d have to admit that this attempt at negotiation frightened him. Not because of what was being demanded, but rather because the Horde did not negotiate. 

“This is obviously a ruse.” One of the advisors muttered, voicing Iefyr’s own thoughts. 

“It is.” Iefyr agreed quietly, not taking his eyes off the scroll before him, “But what choice do we have?” 

“We can fight!” Another advisor, younger than the rest, declared, shaking one tightly closed fist. 

“And if we fail? What then? Everyone will be slaughtered – man, woman, child, everyone.” Iefyr gently countered. 

“So what? We hand over our home? We simply surrender you and Lady Umrielyth to them?!” 

“Silence.” Iefyr commanded quietly, “There is no other option left to us. The Horde will be here in a day’s time. When they arrive, what hope do we have to prevent them from entering the city? What can we do when Mathias-“ his voice cracked, hitching in his chest as the name of his dearest friend passed through his lips. His friend, his dear friend…what had happened to him? Death? Imprisonment? Torture? Or worse? There was not enough depravity within him to imagine what the Horde could have done to him. All he could fathom that his friend was no longer in this world. His only hope was that he had found a peaceful spot to rest in the afterlife, one far away from the torment and suffering of war. Swallowing hard, he sucked in a deep breath, reassuringly squeezing Umrielyth’s hand when she audibly sobbed, and forced himself to continue,” What hope do we have when even Mathias could not turn this tide?” 

By the look on their faces, he could tell none of them had an answer to that or, at least, none that they wanted to voice. Sighing heavily, exhausted to the point that he longed to crawl into the nearest hole and sleep for his next hundred years, Iefyr slowly stood, his joints aching as though he’d already reached 5000 years. Picking up the rough scroll, he read over the childish scribbles once more, a bitter bile rising in his throat at the mere thought of handing over not only his city, but his wife, his beloved, beautiful wife and his men to these beasts. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the horrors the Horde would inflict upon them. Would they be gibbering, babbling madmen before those beasts finally decided to end their misery? His heart seized up at a violent image that came crashing into his mind: his wife, his beautiful, amazing wife, torn to shreds, no longer able to scream as the agony had long destroyed her voice. Shoving the thought away, he sucked in another deep breath, tossed aside the note so the advisors would not see how badly his hands were shaking and said, “We have no other choice.” 

Wrapping an arm loosely around his wife’s waist, he pulled her close, loathing the tremble wracking her body, wishing desperately that he could do something to drive it away, wishing that there was some way he could get her out of the city before the Horde arrived but knowing both were futile. Becoming prisoners of the Horde was what fate had decided for them both. All he could find to be thankful for in this horrid, terrifying situation was that they were to face this fate together. And that was a hollow, cold gratefulness that existed right on the verge of bitterness. May the Gods be forever cursed for inflicting such a cruelness upon them. If the Gods of Old still even existed in this realm of reality. For all he could tell, they had long since abandoned them. 

“For the people.” She whispered tearfully, burying her face into his shoulder, her thin fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. 

“For the people.” He murmured in agreement, each word falling out of his mouth like a poisoned barb, ripping a line of agony along his tongue. Turning to the advisors, he ordered, “Send word back to the Horde. We will accept their conditions. Let the men know but be sure to tell them that their sacrifice will ensure the safety of the townspeople.” 

“Some will try to flee.” 

“Let them.” He sighed, already putting together a speech to deliver to the townspeople in the back of his mind. Honesty would be required, but this was something that needed to be handled delicately. Even mentioning how close the Horde was to them was sure to incite panic. Many would try to run but where would they go? There was nowhere left – nowhere that the Horde had not claimed, except for the sea. There was no doubt in his mind that, if allowed, many would flee there, not to escape, but to throw themselves off the highest cliffs. Even death would be preferred to what they thought the Horde might do to them. He would need to reassure them that they would not be harmed. That wasn’t exactly going to be easy when he had to follow that with ‘the city is being surrendered, along with myself, my wife and all the soldiers’. All he could hope was that the townspeople would remain strong in the face of this disastrous predicament, "With the fall of Middale…there won’t be anywhere for them to go.” 

Umrielyth sobbed into his shoulder. Squeezing her even closer, reaching up to gently stroke the back of her head, he said, “Go. We have little time to prepare.” 

“Yes sir.” The advisors mumbled, all of them looking old and tired, as they turned to file out of the room. 

When the door was closed, and he was left with no one but Umrielyth, all the strength fled from his body. Terror exploded inside his chest, coursing through his veins in a terrible wave of cold. The Horde…the Horde was coming. They would soon be on their doorstep and he would be expected to not only hand over his city, the city he had vowed to protect but his men…his wife, his Umrielyth. Panic seized hold of his lungs, making it difficult to breathe. Clutching his wife close, desperately holding onto her warmth, shrieking thoughts raced through his mind, each going too fast for him to truly register. He cared not what would happen to him. The Horde could tear him limb from limb, and he would gladly accept that punishment, if it only meant his wife would be spared. Burying his face into his soft hair, he sobbed, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ve failed…I’ve failed you.” 

Umrielyth threw her arms around his neck, planting wet kisses onto his cheek and lips, “Be still, my love. We will get through this together. The horde,” she sobbed, her voice cracking, “the horde will not destroy us.” 

Teary eyes met his, sending a pang of agony rushing through him. Leaning down, he pressed their lips together in a desperate kiss, dragging the taste of her mouth into his own, imprinting the flavor onto his tongue, and whispered, “Run. Take your handmaidens and-“ 

“No.” She whispered fiercely. 

“Umi, please-“

“I said no!” She shrieked hysterically. Two small hands gripped tightly onto his head as she bore into him with an intense, unflinching glare, “I will not abandon this town! I will not abandon my people! And I will not abandon you! Do you dare mock my vows, Iefyr? I swore! I swore to you on the day we married that I would remain by your side through all the cruelties this hellish world could throw at us!” 

“Umi-“ 

“Together, Iefyr.” She whispered, pushing up on the balls of her feet so she could plant a soft kiss against his trembling lips, “We will face this together.” 

“Only agony awaits us, Umi.” He insisted, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

“Then we will take it. Whatever the Horde brings, we will stand against it. Together.” 

He could see that there was no way he could convince her to leave. Even though she was terrified of what was to come, she would remain by his side until the very end. Kissing the corner of his mouth, half-wishing he had not married such a strong-willed, incredible woman, Iefyr let out a shaky breath, weaved his fingers through her soft hair, and nodded stiffly, swallowing back the sob rising in his throat, “Together.” 

No matter what, he needed to remain strong. If his wife could face the Horde with such unwavering strength, then it was only right that he respect her determination and match it with his own. They would not let this destroy them. The Horde would march through their streets, the Horde might rip them apart, but they would not falter. Kissing her sweet mouth once more, he took a moment to breathe in her scent, letting it flow through him in a calm, golden wave then stepped away. There was too much to do, and not enough time to do it. Wiping the tears from his face, already feeling a little shameful for showing such a weak side of himself to his beloved wife, Iefyr quickly put a list together in his head of what needed to be done. The Horde would be upon them soon. 

He needed to be ready. 

-

He stayed strong as the Horde poured through the streets of his beloved city, destroying everything that stood in their path, ripping apart storefronts, downing lanterns, hurling glass and splintered wood all over the cobblestone roads. Whooping, hollering and shrieking with deranged glee, they harmed no civilian but they didn’t prevent them from doing everything they could to torment them as all matter of disgusting, vile, deformed beast herded men, women and children into the town’s square. Women with all the female children and male children under thirteen in one group, men with the male children over the age of thirteen in another, and lastly the elderly, who were shoved the back, seemingly deemed the least important amongst the townspeople. 

He remained strong when his men were paraded, naked and bound, into the square then made to kneel in row after row before the Horde’s Chieftess, a disgusting orc who bore her breasts without any iota of shame. Below her, lounging lazily on a hastily made wooden platform, were some of the ugliest freaks within the Horde – their faces were the stuff of nightmares, all of them were heavily scarred and many sported animalistic features that made them even more monstrous than the others. Each one was naked, and proudly displaying themselves to the crowd, seemingly amused when the townspeople attempted to look away. Bowing their heads, curling in one themselves as though they were trying to hide their shame, his men remained quiet as the hideous beasts yelled jeering insult after jeering insult. Even from a distance, he could see that several were openly weeping. 

He kept his chin held high as the Chieftess addressed the crowd, throwing her muscular arms open wide as she roared out to the weeping, pale faced townspeople, “Your city has been claimed! Your leaders have surrendered! Any hope you might still be holding onto, let it go now. There is no escape. There is no rescue coming. Just be grateful that those in authority had the brains to know when to concede. If not for his sacrifice,” his stomach clenched when she turned to smile down at him, “you would all be nothing but splatters of blood on the cobblestones. Each one of you would have tasted the Horde’s steel!” The crowd trembled as the Horde roared its approval, stomping their cloven, booted and clawed feet as they victoriously threw their fists into the air. 

He was steadfast, he was a rock, he was unbreakable, staring out over the crowd with a stern, unflinching expression on his face, ready to take on anything, ready to face whatever the Horde had in store for them…until the Chieftess cried out, “And now, I do believe, a reunion is in store!” 

Another shrieking cry came from the horde as a group of monsters to the left of the square parted. Leaning over so that he could see what the Chieftess was talking about, Iefyr, at first, didn’t register what he was seeing. Someone was being dragged into the square, held up by two beefy orcs who were as naked as the surrendered soldiers. Their sagging breasts swung as they swaggered into the square, seemingly uncaring that the man they were dragging along with them was literally being dragged across the cobblestones. His feet scrapped against the ground. His head hung low, obscuring his face completely. There wasn’t a scrap of fabric on him but what was worse, he was sporting a obvious erection. A blood red cock stood up proudly from a nest of white pubic hair, bounding as the man was dragged along. Blinking rapidly, he took in the dirty blonde hair, the pale skin, marred with grime and dirt, had a moment where nothing at all was crossing his mind then the realization of whom he was looking at slammed into him with enough force to nearly knock him over. Tears immediately sprung up to his eyes. Not ones of relief, but ones of horror. 

“Mathias.” He whispered, his lips quivering. 

At the same time, the crowd of townspeople caught on as well. Wailing moans filled the air as a great many housewives buried their faces into their hands and aprons. The surrendered soldiers bowed even further, the weight of their fallen comrade pressing hard against their backs. Stony faced men crumpled as Mathias was dragged over to the wooden platform, then tossed carelessly onto it. Lying face down, hardly moving save for the subtle rise and fall of his back as he breathed, Mathias made no attempt to get up. Staring down at him, a knife of ice cold twisting inside his chest, Iefyr longed to call out to him but feared his voice might shatter if he tried. At his side, Umrielyth openly sobbed, staring down at their fallen friend with agonized eyes. 

One of the hideous beasts stepped forward, grabbed a handful of Mathias’s hair and wrenched him up, forcing him to look at the crowd of townspeople and surrendered soldiers. There was a moment when he didn’t seem to register what he was seeing then, suddenly, life was flooding back into him. Jolting violently, his hands flying up to the strong hand holding him, head swiveling around as he took in everything that he was allowed to see, he cried out in desperate, broken voice that made Iefyr’s heart shatter, “No! No! No!” 

“My sisters!” The Chieftess laughed, throwing her arms open wide, “It is time to begin!” 

There was another roar of approval from the Horde, followed by events Iefyr’s mind could hardly keep up with. All he could do was watch in horror, mouth hanging open, eyes stretched wide, as Mathias was thrown back down, shoved over onto his back then his legs were grabbed, pushed upwards until they hung uselessly over his head. As the crowd watched, gawking, horrified at this display, the beast that had positioned him took hold of his rock hard cock, bent her knees just enough so she was hovering over Mathias, lead it to her genital and wasted no time in penetrating herself with it. Letting out a loud, animalistic howl, she began to crudely thrust her hips, her breasts swinging with the force. Underneath her, Mathias wailed as he was raped, his hands curling into loose fists. Audibly sobbing, tears streaming down his pale face, he loudly begged, “No! Not here! Not this! Please!” 

“Your Virgin Knight!” The Chieftess shrieked gleefully, “Is a virgin no longer! He has been defiled, violated and raped by my sisters! Every inch of his body has been sullied, dirtied! He has filled our wombs with his semen! He has impregnated a great many of us, and will spend the rest of his life impregnating so many more! He is no longer your brave and chaste knight! He is now our breeding slave!” 

Grinning manically, her beady eyes gleaming with crazed joy, the Chieftess looked to the surrender soldiers, to the crowd then finally to Iefyr, “Now, watch! Watch as he surrenders himself to the pleasure of being our whore!” 

“Stop this!” Iefyr cried, but his demand was lost to the roaring of the Horde. He attempted to rush forward, not certain what he might do but unable to stay still while someone so dear to him was in such a terrible situation, but was quickly grabbed by one of the guards, who wrenched him back. Held him place, sobs building at the back of his throat, every last bit of strength within him shattering as his gaze returned to his beloved friend. Red faced, sweating profusely, his expression twisted into something between enraptured pleasure and defined horror, Mathias moaned loudly, his body writhing underneath the monstrous beast raping him. 

This was what he had sent him to. He knew…he knew it had been a hopeless endeavor, that one squadron would have never been able to stand against the might of the Horde but he still…he still allowed him to go. His friend, his dearest friend, how could he have allowed this to happen? Tears streamed down his face. His head fell forward. Sobbing, uncaring that the townspeople could see him, that they were witnesses to his despair, Iefyr whispered, “Forgive me.” 

-

He couldn’t think straight. A fog lay over his mind, blanketing all attempts to think or reason. Beyond him, he could see the soldiers, all of them naked, stripped down to their bare skin. Some looked back, watching him be raped, their eyes wide with horror. Others stared down at the ground, unable or unwilling to raise their heads, their shoulders visibly bouncing as they wept. Behind him was the crowds of townspeople, gathered into distinct groups, though similar in their reaction to what was happening to him. The women were openly weeping. Many of the men were as well, though most were either watching the spectacle play out with tears barely restrained or were looking anywhere other than him: to the sky, to the ground, anywhere, just as long as they didn’t have to witness this atrocity. Though, it mattered none to him where they were looking. They were still there. The townspeople, the soldiers, everyone he had fought so hard for, they were all there, witnessing him being defiled, witnessing him impregnate even more of these beasts. 

Witnessing him as he came, howling loudly, his back arching, his hips pushing up into the beast, driving his cock in even deeper, filling up its inside with his sperm. Watching him as the pleasure picked away at his mind, creating cracks that ran all along his consciousness. Panting hard, his back aching from the awkward position he was forced into, Mathias whimpered as another monster took the other’s place. It felt good, it felt so heinously good. He couldn’t think straight. He didn’t want it to feel good. He didn’t want to be made to feel good while he was in front of his fellow soldiers, in front of the townspeople he had sworn to protect. No matter how many times he was raped, the pleasure never seemed to cease. If anything, it grew in intensity. Over the days he had been repeatedly raped, repeatedly used as an inseminator, the pleasure magnified until he could feel it rewiring his body, his mind. 

It was terrifying. He could feel himself breaking underneath the terrible weight of the pleasure being inflicted upon him. How much longer? How much longer could he hold out against the entire force of the Horde? 

Gasping loudly as he came again, his hips violently bucking as he thrust up into the monster’s pussy, his eyes rolling back in his head as the magnificent, insidious pleasure hammered against the confines of his skull, Mathias felt another crack appear in his mind. Forcing his eyes open, his heart slamming against the confines of his ribs, he frantically focused on the faces of his fellow soldiers, desperately hoping that seeing their despair, their agony would drive away this terrible pleasure. For a split moment, it worked – their faces were enough to bring him back to the harsh reality then another monster swaggered over to him, squatted down and laughed joyfully as she bounced up and down on his cock. Another one came up behind him, pushed apart his ass cheeks and began to thrust its tongue into his asshole. One hand reached around to start roughly playing with his nipples, pulling on the hard nub, rolling it between two calloused fingers. Yet another appeared, grabbed a handful of his hair, wrenched his head to the side and began to hungrily kiss him. A long, disgusting tongue was pushed deep into his mouth, nearly going down his throat as the beast moaned loudly. It was horrible, it was vile, it felt so good. It felt so incredibly good. He couldn’t think. There was only a loud buzzing in his mind as the pleasure grew and grew. 

Good, it felt so good, it felt so fucking good. He hated it, he hated it so much…didn’t he? He…he couldn’t think, not with his ass being tongued fucked, his cock buried in such exquisite tight heat, his mouth stuffed full with a monster’s tongue – not with this insane pleasure. He couldn’t think…he couldn’t-. He was breaking. His mind was breaking. He was fucked up. The monsters had destroyed him. There was no going back, there was no going back from this. He was…he was-

Suddenly, there were screams of horror from the crowd. Wrenched out of the haziness coating his mind in a thick fog, Mathias followed their wide, horrified gazes, taking note along the way that the rest of the Horde were sharing expressions of almost deranged excitement until he found what all of them were looking at. Swaggering across the cobblestones, an arrogant smirk plastered across its face, was the biggest ogre Mathias had ever seen. Thick, heavy breasts hung above abs that were so pronounced and defined they could act as a washboard. Powerful, trunk-like legs were tattooed with thick black bands that around entirely around the beast’s bulging thighs. It was a terrifying sight to behold, and it was clear it was coming straight for him. Yet, he felt no ear. Instead, to his dismay, what he felt was a spark of excitement. Looking into those confident, lusty eyes, he wondered what she would do to him. 

Climbing up onto the stage, the massive ogre shoved away every beast in her way then, without an iota of hesitation, her grin widening in anticipation, grabbed him around the waist and lifted him up into the air as though he weighed nothing at all. Hanging upside down, arms dangling uselessly, all his blood rushing to him, making him feel even dizzier and fuzzier, given an inverted view of the crowd of townspeople spread out in front of him, Mathias found himself squeezed to the ogre’s powerful chest, her heavy breasts squished to his back, muscular arms wrapping firmly around his midsection, easily keeping him in place as the ogre began to lick his ass and balls with frenzied earnestness. One arm stayed strongly wrapped around him, while the other slid up to delightedly slap and caress his ass, squeezing the plush lobes with enough force to turn the skin bright red. Completely at its mercy, writhing at the sensation of having his ass and balls played with by that clever, hot tongue, Mathias let his eyes fall closed. Breaking…he was breaking- 

“Found her!” A voice cried out gleefully from somewhere above him, startling him into reopening his eyes then, suddenly, a face was thrust in front of his own. For a moment, his pleasure diseased mind made no sense of the mass of features right in front of them. He could only stare up blankly until the person in front of him softly sobbed, “Mathias.” 

Mireielle. His Mireielle. She was so beautiful, even with her expression screwed up into one of utter agony. Tears streamed down her red cheeks. He loved her, he loved her so much. He had wanted to give her everything, to give her the whole world. Seeing her now, it was like a dream. Smiling as a shudder of delight raced through him as the ogre shoved a tongue deep inside his ass, wiggling around in an enticing, maddening way, he stared into her eyes, so happy to see her, so happy that she was safe, as the ogre ravaging his ass brought him closer and closer to orgasming. Mireielle, his Mireielle, she was so beautiful, so incredibly beautiful. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t fucking think. The pleasure, the monsters pussies, their tongues thrust into his body, rewiring him, destroying him into nothingness then molding the remnants into what they wanted, it was too much. It was too much. It was too fucking much. He couldn’t….his Mireielle, he loved her. He loved her so much. He wanted…what did he want? He didn’t know anymore. 

He didn’t know anything anymore. 

With a loud, muffled moan, he came once more but instead of his jizz harmlessly splattering onto the wooden platform, the Harpy holding Mireielle wrenched her up until her face was directly underneath his cock and held her in place so that all of his jizz splattered against Mireielle’s face. She yelped in shock, jerking her head back in an attempt to get away but that only succeeded in getting semen on her neck and chest. Face flushing a violent red, she gasped hard then began to sob. Blinking blearily, he took in her jizz coated face. His cum…his cum was on her face, he had cum on her face. Laughter bubbled out of his chest, starting off as a low chuckle before growing into hysterical cackles. Cum, he had cum on her face! His precious, pure, beautiful Mireielle, he had cum on her fucking face! She was beautiful – she was so beautiful with his jizz clinging to her pale skin. He wanted…he wanted to cum more, he wanted to cover her skin in his cum! 

The ogre, either bored or pleased that she had made him cum, abruptly dropped him back to the ground. While Mireielle sobbed, tugging hard against the Harpy holding her hostage, red rimmed eyes looking anywhere other than him, the ogre grabbed each of his ankles in one hand, wrenched his legs apart then down, making his knees bend into an inverted squatting positon, holding them wide open as she lowered herself down onto his dick. Scalding hot wetness immediately enveloped his cock, squeezing him with such strength that if felt like she was trying to pull his dick right off. He wanted…he wanted to keep cumming. It felt good, it felt so fucking good! The ogre, who was viciously, rapidly thrusting her hips, driving his cock deep inside over and over again, her flushed, snarling face hovering above him, was making him feel so good! Nothing else…nothing else mattered anymore. He was broken. The monsters had broken him. There was nothing else, nothing at all that mattered anymore other than the pleasure they were freely giving to him. Shouldn’t he…shouldn’t he be grateful that they were allowing him such incredible, mind blowing pleasure? Why was he trying to fight it? Why, when it felt so good, when it made him feel so good, when it let him see such glorious sights as his beautiful Mireielle’s face completely covered in his cum? He wanted more! He wanted to be raped more! His cock, his cock was begging to be swallowed up by more monster pussies! He wanted…he wanted to fuck, he wanted to be fucked, he wanted to cum until he passed out! He wanted! He wanted! 

Howling shamelessly as his cock was the beautiful ogre fucking him rotated her hips, grinding his cock against her sloppy insides, her sticky juices coating his thighs and crotch, he wiggled his hips in a desperate attempt to match her movements. Her insides felt so good. She was so fucking tight, clamping down on him as though she was trying to milk every last drop out of him. It was good, it was so fucking good. Eyes rolling back in their sockets, his mouth pulled apart in a snarling grin of delight, the chords in his neck standing out prominently, he shrieked, “More! More! Harder! Squeeze me harder! More! More!” 

Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing at all. He was…he was a slave, just another cock in the army of breeding stocks. Who was he before? He couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter. Nothing fucking mattered. All that meant anything to him anymore was the pussy his cock was deeply buried in. He wanted to cum, he wanted to make her cum, he wanted…he wanted to get her pregnant. That was his purpose now, it was his purpose and he wanted…he wanted to fulfill it. Thrust back into the ogre as best he could, he slammed his hips upwards, shoving his cock deep inside of her, loving the way she moaned. In the distance, he could hear laughter, coming from the beautiful beasts he was meant to service. 

“What do you want?” Asked a voice from somewhere above him. 

“I want to fuck monster pussy! I want to get all of you pregnant! Use my cock! Use my cock to make you cum!” He shrieked delightedly, shuddering violently as another orgasm was wrung out of him. 

“Who do you belong to?” 

“The Horde!” He screamed, “The Horde!”

“What are you?” 

“A filthy whore!” Laughter rolled off his tongue, abruptly cut off with a wild shriek when his cock was pushed into another beautiful pussy. Thrusting hard up into her, slamming his hips against her, wishing that they would stop just watching and make sure of the rest of him, he yelled, “A slut! A slave! A breeding slave!”

“What is your purpose?” 

“To service the Horde! I am nothing but a cock to be used to give the Horde pleasure and Father more of the kin!” 

That’s right. That was his purpose now. No longer was he the Virgin Knight, he couldn’t even remember who that was anymore. His only purpose now, all that he was meant for, was to act as a slave for the Horde. To give them pleasure, and be gloriously drowned in the pleasure they were so graciously willing to give. Nothing else mattered. Happily kissing the monster he was currently fucking, running his fingers through her coarse body hair, he heard nothing else but the loud cheers of the Horde, completely uncomprehending of the chaos spreading out behind him, unaware of the woman being dragged away, sobbing out his name as she was thrown back into the crowd. Nothing else mattered. 

Absolutely nothing at all. 

-

“We upheld our end of the deal!” Iefyr shrieked as the guard was dragging him and his sobbing wife back into the Chieftess chambers. Already, his wife’s shirt had been torn, exposing her breasts. The guard, with a gleeful smile spread across her devious, ugly face, was beginning to rip Umrielyth’s trousers, clearly not intent on just pulling them down, but destroying them altogether. Panting hard, her face bright red, tears streaming down her cheeks, she tried to wrench away. It proved fruitless – she was no match for the strength of an orc. His own clothes were quickly being torn to shreds as two more guards quickly went about the process of getting him undressed as quickly as possible. Horror, terror and rage swirled in a black mass inside his chest. This beast! This horrid beast! Was this what she had been planning all along? 

Standing in the doorway, surveying the scene with despicable amusement, the Chieftess neglected to answer for several prolonged moments. In her silence, he was forced to listen to the chaos occurring outside. Once Mathias had broken, as soon as the Virgin Knight cracked underneath the weight of the horde, an order had been delivered to the Horde waiting below: begin breeding. Mayhem broke out immediately. The surrendered soldiers, already naked and restrained, were thrown onto the cobblestones, their cocks quickly brought to hardness, then every single one found themselves being raped by multiple monsters. Wailing howls, desperate pleas filled the air as their cocks were sunk into the despicable monster’s holes. All throughout the square, men were being forced to perform sexual acts on the monsters, their tongues and cocks and hands and feet all being used as though they themselves were nothing more than sex toys. That, however, hadn’t been enough for the Horde. Despite the agreement, the men of Middale, innocent civilian, were also drawn into the fray. And even that, was not enough. As their husbands were being violated, the women were thrown down to the ground beside the men they loved, their legs wrenched open, their underwear ripped away and tongues, fingers, fists shoved into them. 

“The deal was that we wouldn’t kill anyone.” The Chieftess informed him, strolling into her chambers with a nonchalant stride. 

“You-!” 

Standing now completely naked before her, holding his wife tightly to his side, Iefyr snarled, “You hag-!” 

“If you would prefer, though.” The Chieftess dropped down onto the bed that was once his and Umrielyth’s, “The deal can be rescinded. I will order my troops to slaughter every single one of them. As of right now, our breeding stock is thriving. We really don’t need anymore.” 

Breathing hard, rage and despair burning a hole in his chest, Iefyr breathed, “You bitch.” 

This…this was what he signed his men, his wife, the townspeople over to? A lifetime of being treated as breeding stock? Repeatedly raped until their minds shattered? He felt as though he might burn alive from the agonized guilt building inside of him. How could he have been so stupid? But what other option had there been for them? Death, that was all that had been left. It had been death or this. Yet, knowing that, he couldn’t be sure which was worse. Swallowing down the putrid bile rising in his throat, he sucked in a deep breath in a desperate attempt to calm the terror steadily building up in the back of his mind. Right now, he couldn’t afford to lose hope. The light wasn’t gone entirely just yet. It didn’t take a genius to tell where this was going next. The Chieftess would not have them both forcibly strip if she did not intend to do the same to them as the Horde was doing to his men and the townspeople outside. 

He and his wife were strong. If they could hold true to themselves, they might be able to find a way out of this. They might still be able to save the townspeople, the soldiers, Mathias, everyone. There was still light left. He just needed to hang onto hope. That was all he had left, and he would hold onto it until his last breath. 

“Do you want to break our deal?” She chuckled, lightly playing with one of the blankets. 

“No.” Iefyr spat, loathing the word as it fell free of his lips. 

“Then get your asses over here and use those clever elvish tongues of yours,” Reclining back, she shoved her loose trousers down, revealing that she wasn’t wearing any kind of underpants, then tossed them aside as she parted her legs, completely showing off her sex to Iefyr and Umrielyth, “to get me off.” 

Disgust rolled sickening in his stomach. Glancing down at his wife, finding a similar expression of shaky determination on her beautiful face, he took her hand, straightened his shoulders and walked over to the bed. Beady eyes watched them hungrily as they approached. Keeping his expression neutral, not about to give this beast an inch, Iefyr climbed up onto the bed, slid over until he was between the Chieftess beefy legs, and had to fight every hard to not grimace at the strong scent coming off her genitals. He was used to Umrielyth’s, which always smelled so delightfully wonderful. This scent was putrid, as though an animal had crawled up into her and died. Doing his best to ignore, he waited until Umrielyth had joined him, then lowered himself down onto his belly. It was going to be terrible, it was going to be disgusting, he would never feel clean again but he would suffer through it. For his wife, for his men, for everyone, he would fucking endure it. 

With their shoulders brushing, they both leaned down, unconsciously flinching at the strong smell, slid their tongues out of their mouths and started to use them to service the Chieftess. The taste was even worse than the smell. Struggling not to gag, hearing his wife fail to do so, he pushed forward to take the brunt of it, swiping his tongue along the folds, pressing it against the soaked open, rubbing it hard against the nub of sensitive nerves at the top. Within moments, he had the Chieftess moaning appreciatively, her hips rolling as she grinded her pussy against his face. Umrielyth did her best to keep up but this was something entirely foreign to her. Obviously not having the first clue as to service someone orally, she still did everything she could. Matching, mimicking Iefyr’s movements, fresh tears rolling down her flushed cheeks, she whimpered low in her chest when the Chieftess reached down, grabbed a handful of her long hair and tugged hard on it. 

“That’s right. That’s it. Harder, you sluts. Do it harder.” 

Flaring in indignation and shame at being called such a thing, Iefyr seethingly obeyed, quickening the pace of his tongue, pressing harder against the Chieftess clit. It was beyond disgusting, especially when his only point of comparison was Umrielyth’s, whose sex was utter perfection. Sweet, soft and beautiful. How he longed to be servicing her right now, rather than this hideous beast. Comforting himself with the thought that he would soon, and he would have her crying in pleasure, Iefyr defiled his own tongue to bring the Chieftess to climax. Grunting like a pig, grinding her hips against their faces, she snarled and sneered as she cum, fluids gushing out of her hole, coating the bottom half of Iefyr’s and Umrielyth’s faces. 

“Good.” The Chieftess laughed, “Now, let’s get that cock of yours hard, elf.” 

Before Iefyr had time to react, a strong hand grabbed his arm, wrenched him over and threw him down onto the bed. The Chieftess quickly straddled his hips, tugging Umrielyth to her side. One hand traveled down to his soft cock, where it wrapped tightly around his flesh and began to pump it roughly. The other began to play with his wife’s breasts, caressing them, squeezing them, pinching the soft, pink nipples until the pale skin was bright red, until Umrielyth gasped in pain as the Chieftess leaned down to devour her mouth, cruelly kissing her plump lips. Rage flared inside his chest at the sight but he bit it back. Already, his cock was rock hard, pulsing lightly in the tight ring of the orc’s fingers. He needed to endure. He would endure. 

“Good boy.” The Chieftess cooed, rising her hips up. Hovering over his cock, Iefyr had a terrible moment wherein he realized his cock, which had been solely reserved for his wife, his beautiful, wonderful wife, was now going to be used to get a monster off. He was going to penetrate a monster. He was going to be raped, he was going to be fucked by a monster. Bile rushed up his throat, threatening to expel itself all over his chest. At the last moment, he swallowed it all down, refusing to show any kind of weakness to this beast. Breathing hard, turning his eyes to his wife, he stared into her eyes, hoping that his gaze would convey to her just how much he loved her, how much he adored her, as the Chieftess was slowly lowering herself down onto him. When his head pushed up into her, he let out a sharp breath through his nose. Hot, tight and horrible. It was disgusting. Being inside of her was far worse than he could have ever imagined. What was even worse, his body immediately reacted. Despite being buried inside of a monster’s body, his body didn’t seem to know the difference between the beast and his wife. Pleasure radiated up his spine from the point that he entered the Chieftess. Precum was pouring out of his dick. The rate of his heartbeat was already accelerated. Sweat streamed down his forehead, rolling into his eyes, making them sting. 

She sunk all the way down, laughed heartily, reached up to squeeze one of her own breasts then began to bounce, sucking him all the way in before sliding almost all the way off. Driving him into that intense, despicable heat, inflicting more and more of that insidious pleasure onto him, she played with his beloved wife’s breasts, squeezing them together, pinching her nipples, helping herself to her most intimate and private of places – places only he was allowed to touch. Breathing hard, despising the pleasure, despising the sensation of his cock being squeezed by the beast’s pussy, Iefyr gasped when the Chieftess, seemingly bored with playing with just his wife’s breasts, reached down to cruelly pinch one of his nipples. 

“Does it feel good, huh? Does it feel good, you whore?” The Chieftess laughed, “You’re twitching so excitedly inside me!” 

Leaning down, she took one of his wife’s nipples into her mouth. Immediately afterwards, Umrielyth cried out in pain, attempted to wrench away but was held still by the Chieftess. Chuckling, a muffled sound that made Iefyr’s skin crawl, the Chieftess gave Umrieltyh’s red, swollen nipple a playful lick, “You taste so good! So pure and sweet. What does down there taste like, I wonder? It’s been a while since I’ve had a meal of elf pussy. Get up. Stand in front of me with your legs spread.” 

Whimpering softly, Umrielyth did as she was told. Standing, she placed a foot on either side of Iefyr’s waist, spreading her legs open wide so that the Chieftess would have full access to her sex. Wrapping one arm around her, turning to roughly playing with her ass, the beast leaned forward and began to loudly devour his wife’s pussy. Grimacing at the sound, grateful that he could see her face as she was being defiled like this, Iefyr continued to thrust up into the monster, wishing that his cock could grow into a sword so he could kill her instantly. Alas, that did not happen. Instead, what did happen was that he realized he was close to cumming. Groaning inwardly, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop it, knowing that this wasn’t going to stop after just one orgasm, knowing that there was so terrible left in store for them, Iefyr bit his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, focused entirely on the pain as his orgasm grew. He didn’t want to cum, he didn’t want to ejaculate inside this beast but he had no choice. 

With a stifled moan, he clenched his eyes shut as he came inside the beast. It felt good, and horrid at the same time. He hated it. He loathed it. Setting his mouth into a thin line, he let out a shaky breath, hoping that he’d get just a moment to compose himself but that was too much to ask for. The Chieftess hardly seemed to notice that he had come. Still loudly, hungrily devouring his wife’s pussy, she continued to bounce up and down on his cock, squeezing the sensitive member with a ferociousness that he swore she was trying to rip his dick straight off. Reaching down, he wrapped a hand around his wife’s ankle, squeezing reassuringly as she audibly sobbed, her entire body violently trembling. 

“You taste so good. I bet your husband’s never given you pleasure like this. You love my tongue, don’t you, you whore? You’re so wet. Your pussy is being licked by a monster and you’re gushing.” 

“I’m not-!” Umrielyth cried out, shame and guilt lacing through her voice, then her body tensed up and she let out a loud, sharp cry that he recognized to mean she was cumming. Gasping hard, sweat rolling down her back, her long hair sticking to her pale skin, Umrielyth sobbed miserably, bowing over, clutching her stomach as though she might vomit. 

“Delicious.” The Chieftess laughed, hungrily licking her lips, “Oh, the fun I will have with you two. My new personal sex slaves.” Kissing his wife’s hip, she looked down at his flushed face, wide, startled eyes and grinned widely, “I wonder how long it’ll be until you break.” 

Shoving Umrieylth down onto the bed beside him, the Chieftess began to thrust her hips again, drawing a startled yelp out of him. Pushing a hand between his wife’s legs, the monster roughly caressed Umrieylth’s clit, making her write and moan loudly, her face flushing with same as she was noticeably assaulted with pleasure, for a few moments before that seemed to bore her. Sliding her hand downwards, the Chieftess thrust three large fingers inside, burying them into his wife’s pussy and began to viciously fingerfuck her as she made use of his cock. Grimacing, covering her face with both hands, Umrieylth sobbed, cried and gasped, her hips unconsciously rolling. It was a terrible sight, one nearly enough to make him lose his stiffy but with the repeated assault of the monster’s pussy, that proved ultimately impossible. 

Within moments of the position change, both of them were brought to their second orgasm. Crying out in unison, pleasure crashing over them, they turned away from each other, neither wanting to see the expression of them cumming from being fucked by a monster. Panting, disgusted, ashamed, feeling as though his body was coated in slime, Iefyr wrapped one arm around his wife’s waist, pulling her close as the Chieftess continued to fuck him. How long would it be until she was satisfied? His cock was already beginning to ache. He wasn’t sure how many more times he could cum until he was done. 

It didn’t matter. Whatever happened to him didn’t matter anymore. Placing a soft kiss against his wife’s hot, wet cheek, he vowed to himself that, no matter what, he would stay strong. For her, he would endure all of this, and come out of it the victor. They would live out their lives together in peace and happiness. No matter what he had to do, he would make sure that happened. They would get through this. He knew they would get through this. No matter what, no matter what! He would endure. He had to. 

-

From what she heard, she lasted less than three days. Of course, at some point during the first night, she had ripped her out of her husband’s arms and handed her over to the Horde. It wasn’t often they got to play with such a beautiful elf so by the time the sun rose the next morning, she had been a utter mess, barely conscious as the Horde continued to play with her limp body. Bite marks, hand prints, bruises and scrapes covered her pale body, making her even more beautiful than before. When Mazoga had picked her up to get another taste of that sweet pussy, she had begun to cry violently, begging to be returned to her husband, to be returned to his arms. That request, of course, had not been fulfilled. Instead, Mazoga had had her fun, got her fill of that delicious pussy, made her cum until she was screaming hysterically, then handed her back to the Horde. This time, she was handed off to a rougher bunch who spent two days straight doing nothing but using their tongues, fingers and hands to mess up the little elf bitch’s pussy, tits and ass. By the time Mazoga had returned over two weeks later, smiling at the information she’d just received that the elf bitch had broken a long time ago, her ass and pussy had been stretched to their limits, and the elf bitch was delightfully riding a Harpie’s face, squealing like an animal as a beastwoman used one of their fake dicks to fuck her ass. 

It truly was a beautiful sight, one that became even more gorgeous when Mazoga dragged the elf bitch off the Beastwoman and Harpie by her hair, ignoring her whining pleas to be returned to that devastating pleasure, took her up to what had been her bedroom when she had still been the Lady of the Land, where her husband was tied to the bed, pale and listless after having spent every night for the past two weeks acting as Mazoga ’s personal dildo, then threw her onto the bed so that the elf bastard could get an good look at what his wife had become. Squealing in delight, the elf bitch had hungrily kissed her husband, obviously still recognizing him as someone important to her, and immediately began to pleasure herself with his forced hard dick. The elf bastard, the one who had ruled this shithole, had been holding strong, despite being infected with the kiss and constantly assaulted with pleasure but when he saw his beloved wife in such a state, something inside of him finally broke. 

That had been a moment she wished she could have captured, bottled up so she could savor it over and over again. The look on his face, the deranged smile that spread across his face as his mind shattered, how he had hungrily kissed her, thrusting viciously up into her abused pussy, laughing hysterically, everything had been so fucking beautiful. Joining them in the bed, she had spent the rest of the day doing nothing but fucking her elven sex slaves, using his cock, devouring her pussy, over and over again until they both passed out. The next day was spent much the same, as was the next and next and next. Over and over until, she used them as her personal pleasure machines, and they serviced her happily. 

And she had been happy…for a while. 

Now, months after their conquering of Middale, she found herself addled by a familiar state: boredom. Standing on the balcony overlooking the town square, she surveyed the state of the Horde’s breeding farm. Everywhere she could see, humans and elves were happily going about their duties in serving the Horde. Men waggled their hips, thrusting gleefully into the pussies of her sisters, moaning loudly as her sisters fucked their asses, their mouths or ground their pussies against the slave’s faces, using their tongues, their noses to get off. When one of her sisters announced she was pregnant, an immense cheer spread throughout the farm. However, that didn’t stop the fucking. Even the heavily pregnant sisters, right on the verge of giving birth, were still using the slaves, driving their kiss poisoned cocks deep inside their pussies. Elven and human women were in on the fun as well – some were fucking the men as well, many of them pregnant with brand new breeders that the Horde would be able to use in the future but all the others were being used by her sisters. The Horde didn’t discriminate when it came to gender. Pussy or cocks, they took possession of both. 

In the middle of it all was the slave known previously as the Virgin Knight. It was still the most popular, despite having been thoroughly ruined by so many of her sisters. Currently in the midst of a massive gangbang, his body barely visible as he fucked and was fucked by so many bodies, his loud shouts and cries of devotion to the Horde, to the pussies he was fucking, to his monster masters, nearly drowned out all the other wails and moans coming from the farm. A great many of the newly acquired members of the Horde had been fathered by him, and there would be many, many more in the future. Broken beyond repair, completely devoted to the Horde, the whore would spend the rest of his life as a breeder, and would enjoy every moment of it. 

Normally, when she surveyed such a sight, she was fill with an immense sensation of enjoyment. An entire farm of breeders, all her own. Her sisters were satisfied. Many were heavily pregnant, many more would be impregnated, some were currently giving birth and would return to the farm right after they’ve pushed another sister out into the world. She had an endless supply of slaves, all dedicated to bolstering their numbers, to make the monster race, the Horde the biggest, most powerful group in the entire world. Yet, she was unsatisfied. Sighing heavily, rolling her lips as one of the elf whores shoved its tongue inside of her, wiggling it around devishly in what used to be her favorite thing, certain to get her to orgasm but was now just kind of annoying. Even those two elves, whom she had been so excited to get her hands on, so excited to sully their perfect, pale skin, no longer excited her. They were beyond broken. She could tell them to literally eat each other, and they’d ask what body part she wanted them to start with. There was no excitement left. 

The farm was fantastic. Her sisters were happy. Yet, she was incredibly bored. Shoving the elf between her legs away, Mazoga collapsed into a nearby chair, spread her legs open wide and didn’t even have to issue an order or an indication of what she wanted the elf to do. With a panting, excited breath, the elf was between her legs once more, hungrily devouring her pussy with a fervent eagerness that made her sick. They always broke. No matter what, the weak minds of elves and men always shattered. There was shuffling to her left. Turning her head towards the sound, she watched as the elf bitch, her heavy, swollen breasts hanging low, swinging like udders as she crawled across the floor, slid over to them. A delirious, dazed smile on her flush face, she joined the elf who used to be her husband but was now nothing more than a husk of the proud being it used to be, and began to aid him in eating her out. 

It was boring. It was so terribly boring. There was no more excitement to be had anymore. The elves were broken, every man and elf in the city was broken, the Virgin Knight was shattered beyond repair – there was no more joy to be had in tormenting them. They accepted everything that happened to them with a wide grin. It was boring. It was so fucking boring that she could scream. Sighing heavily, leaning her head back, she knew there was no more excitement left to her here, which meant she was left only with one option: take the fight across the sea. There were several more countries, all of them with fresh, uncorrupted minds that were just waiting to be broken by her. Even better, there were Kings, Queens, Princes and Princesses who were ripe for the picking. It would be a pain in the ass to get across the vast ocean but if it meant she might finally start enjoying herself again, she would happily take hold of it. 

She’d never fucked a King before. Maybe a King might finally be able to get her pregnant. She wouldn’t mind that. Giving birth to a royal baby, one to put on the throne when she got old enough. Yeah, it was a pain in the ass to cross the ocean but she was sure if she posed it to her sisters as being even more cocks and pussies to ravage, these untouched by the might of the Horde, she was sure she’d be able to convince them.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my work and would like to support me, you can contribute to my 'roundtrip ticket to hell' fund so I can nab myself a fine demon boyfriend [Ko-Fi](http://ko-fi.com/decadentbynature)


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